


A Start of Something New

by Author_Of_Sin



Category: Undertale (Video Game), Voidshatter - Undertale AU
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dadster is best Gaster, Ecto-Parts (Undertale), Ecto-Parts of various kinds, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Except they don't all live together?, F/F, F/M, Female Frisk, Friends to Lovers, Intrusive Thoughts, M/M, Panic Attacks, Papyrus Knows More Than He Lets On, Papyrus is an asshole with a heart of gold, Polyamory, Reader Is Not Chara, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader has female parts, Reader-Insert, Reverse Harem, Shy Sans, Skelephobia - Fear of Skeletons, Soulmates, Speciesism, Summary subject to updating, Swearing, This AU is a strange one folks, Unnamed Reader, Voidshatter AU, What's this tom-foolery??, Will update tags as we go along!, You'll see..., come on in and I'll tell ya more, eh?, not just dicks, reader has social anxiety, reader identifies as female
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-05 17:01:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 32,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11017701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Author_Of_Sin/pseuds/Author_Of_Sin
Summary: It's been ten years since the barrier was brought down by a nine-year-old kid with a whole lot ofDeterminationon her side.Monsters are now citizens with full rights, though the struggle to achieve that status was long and costly.Now, they use their specialized skills and magic to their advantage, developing tools and new methods of doing things for people the world over; human and monster alike.Humans have yet to find anyone in the current generations capable of magic and humanity has accepted their lack of magic as a general state of existence; one that is unlikely to change.(Or, the AU that happened because I wanted to write Undertale, but didn't feel like using an existing AU. Welcome to the ride. We've got Boss Monsters, Friendship Fettuccine, and nerds. Lots and lots of nerds. Readz is a creative type; an author and artist of some small renown.)





	1. So, I'm Just Gonna Leave This Here...

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Skeleton Squatters and the Landlady](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9816140) by [Tyrant_Tortoise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyrant_Tortoise/pseuds/Tyrant_Tortoise). 
  * Inspired by [Chill or Be Chilled](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5387672) by [TotalSkeletonTrash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TotalSkeletonTrash/pseuds/TotalSkeletonTrash). 
  * Inspired by [The Priestess and the Soul Guardians](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10894239) by [FireflyKisses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireflyKisses/pseuds/FireflyKisses). 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Cause, I mean... where else am I gonna leave it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own any brand name mentioned, nor do I own Undertale. Just covering my ass, here.  
> ❤️ This chapter edited by my wonderful editor, illusionsfire76. ❤️

The beat is drowning out everything around you. Even the sight of your feet pounding the pavement only registers as a jarring shock through your bones, the rhythm matching the tempo of the bass drumming in your ears. The strange whispers in the background of the track create a tingling sensation in the depths of your mind. A shiver trips down your spine, chased eagerly by a fat droplet of sweat that your shirt doesn't manage to sop up. The feeling makes you slam your eyes closed for just a few seconds. The bass drops, hitting your nervous system full force like someone punted you off a cliff with no warning. All of this distraction is why, when you run into a completely unexpected and very oddly-shaped semi-solid wall, you screech and jump, falling backward and landing hard, flat on your ass.

Ah, _shit_.

You can already feel where the concrete sidewalk has scraped at your skin during your fall, especially along the backs of your thighs, calves, and on the heels of your palms. You hiss and lift your hands in front of you to inspect them, being the worst-feeling and most easily seen of your scrapes. It's not too horrible, really, but they're definitely starting to bleed, and are also absolutely _filthy_ now.

All of that is entirely forgotten, however, when you look past them, to see what it was you'd somehow run into.

The first thing you see is a rather large pair of combat boots, topped by jeans that hang... very oddly. They're covering legs that seem far too skinny to be _at all_ healthy. The person moves toward you, quite clearly alarmed that they'd knocked you down. It's as your eyes track up over their dark red turtleneck, gray scarf, and slightly punk-style leather jacket that you realize why their legs are so, _so_ skinny.

It's... a skeleton.

Not someone in a skeleton costume or a mock-up blacked out skeleton t-shirt and pants. No—this is an actual, full-on skeleton, who is currently bending down to look at you more closely, their eye... sockets? brow bone? _somehow_ scrunched up into an expression of disconcerted dismay. Their jaw is moving, and you can almost hear what they're saying, thanks to the impact of your fall having dislodged your headphones just enough to not quite cover your ears properly.

Slowly, keeping your eyes glued to this creature, you shove your headphones off your head, to rest around your neck instead, thumb groping for the pause button on the side of your phone. Finally, as the relative silence hits you, you manage to both blink and swallow, opening your mouth to speak to this skeleton.

No words come.

A squeak manages to work its way out of your shock-tightened throat, but this only causes a blush to color your blanched—and now rather blotchy—features, which doesn't help you with your lack of words issue one damned bit.

The skeleton tilts their head, eye... lights? tipping down in their sockets, as the bony creature looks you over searchingly. They gasp when they finally get a look at your palms, at the blood sluggishly pooling on them, all but forgotten in the face of this odd encounter.

"HUMAN! YOU'RE BLEEDING! WHY THE _HELL_ DID YOU RUN INTO ME? ARE YOU BLIND? MENTALLY IMPAIRED?!"

_Christ,_ why are they SHOUTING?

"don't think she was trying to, bro." Suddenly, you notice—slightly shorter, but still towering above your semi-prone form—the second skeleton, who is standing just on the far side of the bone wall you'd smacked into. "she looks more surprised than you are."

Absently, you note that both skeletons—who seem to be male, if their voices, address, and clothing choices are any indication—have odd cracks in their skulls. The taller one is sporting a jagged split leading upward over the crown of his skull, from his right eye socket, while the shorter bears a splintered crack that runs from the bottom of his left eye socket, all the way down to the edge of his mouth, ending where a singularly pointy canine tooth begins. Focusing on these small chasms for more than a second or two causes your eyes to water and a faint dizziness to cloud your mind. You shake your head sharply and look away, quickly deciding not to linger on them any longer than you have to.

"look, lady, i'll _patella_ you what... i can heal you up if you want. least i can do, since you tried so hard to break your face on my bro." Looking the smaller of the... brothers, you suppose, over, you note that while the shorter one has adopted the taller's color choices—namely shades of black, gray and red—the fashion style is... quite different. He wears a red, black-studded collar around his neck, only partly concealed by the gray fur lining of his black, long-sleeved jacket. He has nothing beside his bare bones on underneath it, until your sweeping assessment reaches his pelvis. There you find a red belt—studded in mimicry his collar—holding up a pair of black jeans. Simple boots with a short heel finish off the ensemble, the unknown height of the tops of the boots rising up into his pants legs.

You look down to the hands the smaller skeleton is now reaching for, only belatedly realizing what the taller said is true, you really are bleeding a decent bit. Still, you draw your hands back and slowly lever yourself upright, ignoring the shorter's offered hand when he tries to help.

It's not that you hadn't heard of monsters, or the healing many of them are capable of, or even that you were uncomfortable with the idea of having him heal you, considering his apparent sibling was the partial cause of your injuries. You would've had to've lived under a rock to miss the fact that monsters were real and free and have been mingling with the human population of towns and cities around Mt. Ebott for many years. Heck, you'd met several monsters before, and had even been treated by an honest-to-goodness monster doctor when you'd sprained your ankle two months back.

It's just that...

They're _skeletons._

They're literally the faces of death; if oddly surreal representations of it.

And you've always had a rather strong, if completely irrational fear of skeletons.

Sadly, reminding yourself that it's an _irrational_ fear does nothing to quell it.

"M'fine," you mumble, taking a step back to maintain a clearly defined border on your personal bubble. You try your best to offer the shorter skeleton—whom you now notice is actually still taller than you by a few inches—a small smile in gratitude, but it likely comes off as something closer to a grimace. You clear your throat, trying for a more eloquent pair of words. "Thanks, though."

Close enough.

The tall reaper-look-alike scoffs, his freakishly malleable features pressing into an expression of stern disapproval as he crosses his arms and taps his foot impatiently.

The skeleton just in front of you tilts his head, something simulating eyelids lowering over his sockets, narrowing them in careful speculation, his smile tensing marginally. His hand lowers for a moment, then lifts again, pressing his charge once more, with a different aim. "alright, i know when to stop floggin' the dust. i'll do ya one better then. i'm sans—sans the skeleton." He nods toward the bone wall, though he never takes his eye lights off of you. "s'my bro, papyrus the mighty." He tips his skull toward you. "now you tell me your name."

You finally manage to rip your gaze away from his, down to the fingerless leather-gloved skeletal hand he's extended to you. You swallow tightly. Before you can second-guess yourself and rudely refuse, you timidly reach out and slot your hand into his. You watch it for any foul play for a few seconds, before peering reluctantly back up at him. "Uh... ____. ____ the er... human, sadly."

He blinks, a frail brightening of his crooked smile pinching his left cheekbone with the effort. "'sadly'? was that your attempt at bein' _humerus_ , ____? 'cause i gotta say, even paps has better material."

A shrill groan of frustration claws its way out of Papyrus 'the Mighty'. "SANS! ENOUGH OF YOUR NONSENSE! HEAL THE FLESHY CREATURE AND LET US BE DONE WITH THIS FRIPPERY! I WILL NOT TOLERATE ANY MORE DELAYS—THE SHOW STARTS IN TEN MINUTES AND YOU _PROMISED_ TO ATTEND!" Papyrus takes a step closer, glowering at his brother over crossed arms.  "YOU _DO_ STILL INTEND TO ACCOMPANY ME, DON'T YOU, SANS?!"

Sans swivels his head to face Papyrus, smiling sheepishly at his brother. "'course, paps, wouldn't miss it for all the stars in the sky." He turns back to you, a slightly strained, but seemingly genuine smile slipping onto his features. He once again extends his hand for you to shake. "s'good to meet you, ____. hope we get to see you around or somethin'."

Your smile is at least less plastered on than it initially was as you once more shake his hand. Though it's probably still got elements of terror lurking around the corners... or more likely, beyond obviously shining from your eyes. "Ah, g-good to meet you, too, Sans," you look to his brother, "Papyrus. Have uh... fun at the show."

"Ugh." Papyrus merely groans and starts to walk away.

Sans winks, sliding his hand from yours, leaving behind a... piece of paper? You look down to figure out what might be on it, glancing back up to inquire directly from the source, but when you do, you find... nothing. Both skeletons have utterly disappeared.

...the _fuck?_

Did you just dream all of it?

Turning back down to the paper in your... _completely healed_ palm, you realize you couldn't have. You unfold the heavily creased paper, revealing a phone number and winking smiley face. Just below that is the phrase, _'knock, knock'_ , written in fine, elegantly looping cursive script.

Feeling dazed, but curiously amused, you tug your phone from your pocket, entering the number and saving it under the name he'd given you after tossing a text at it on a lark.

 **____:** Who's there?

**Sans:** to.

You frown, slightly confused, but play along anyway.

 **____:** To who?

It takes a few minutes for him to reply, during which you make it about halfway home, taking a shortcut through an empty parking lot.

 **Sans:** to whom.*

The somewhat neutral expression you'd been maintaining falls flat at his response, your eyes rolling in mild disgust at the grammar nazi knock-knock joke. You decide to fight fire with gasoline.

 **____:** Knock, knock.

He's quick to reply, this time.

 **Sans:** who's there?

 **____:** Spell.

**Sans:** spell who?

You wait until you've just closed and locked the door to your apartment before you answer.

 **____:** ...W-H-O.

 **____:** I thought you were good at these? ;)

You smirk and toss the phone on the kitchen counter, stripping quickly while you make your way to the shower. Your clothes leave a haphazard trail on the floor as you pass. The vibration of a text notification catches your attention just before you get out of earshot. You go back to the kitchen, pluck the phone up and check the text.

 **Sans:** sorry. i'll make sure to bring better material next time; somethin' that'll really tickle your _funny bone._

You face-palm, then quickly reply...

 **____:** I'll make sure to keep my _tele-bone_ nearby, just in case you actually come up with something _humerus._

**Sans:** i see i'm rubbin' off on ya. you stole that last one from me. gonna have to charge ya for each one if you keep that up.

You again roll your eyes, leaving one last reply before setting your phone down and finally heading into the shower.

 **____:** I'm _shower_ I can afford to nab a few easy ones, unless you're just lookin' for a _bone to pick_. Seriously though, shower time. TTFN.

When you check your phone again, you have to snort at his reply.

**Sans:** aw, that's just mean, leavin' me all _bonely_ over here. oh well, don't drop the soap!

Christ on a cracker, he's incorrigible!

You blink, realizing you're chuckling at it all despite yourself, finally unable to hold back your amusement. Even in the midst of this, it's a sobering thought that apparently, all it takes is some crappy knock-knock jokes and a few terrible puns to forget the fact that you're texting a literal specter of death. You swallow and key the phone off, setting it on the charger and moving to the living room to stretch.

Sighing when you finish, you flop gracelessly onto the couch, fingers scampering across the coffee table toward the TV remote. With a soft grunt of effort, you finally reach the power button, at the very edge of your reach, and press it, fingers curling over the remote to drag it to your side.

It's been a long, confusing, and fairly jarring day.

Time for some Netflix.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❤--[Talks-To-Skeletons (Voidshatter Ask Blog)](https://talks-to-skeletons.tumblr.com/)\--❤
> 
> ❤--[My Book](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00QZ5AI1K)\--❤--[Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/SableWolfe)\--❤--[Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/A2832IP7)\--❤
> 
> ❤--Skype: shannaleia--❤
> 
> ❤ Thanks for reading! If you enjoy the story or this chapter in particular, please feel free to leave a review with your thoughts! ❤  
>  ❤ I love reading comments and reply to all of them. ❤


	2. Docu-Magical

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You learn a thing or two about souls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Tosses a souper-early extra chapter out there for your amazing faces._ ❤️  
>  ❤️ This chapter edited by my wonderful editor, illusionsfire76. ❤️

Your run the next day is blissfully uninterrupted by immovable skeletal obstacles, and by the time you've finished your route, you're feeling much better overall than you did yesterday. Not only did you get to finish, but you were actually quite productive today. Your latest commission is nearly complete, and you got a decent head-start on chapter fourteen of your latest book, too.

Hell, you feel like you could almost go one more lap!

In fact...

_Your sense of accomplishment fills you with Determination._

Fuck it, right?

You push on, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. You hit shuffle on your phone's playlist, just to mix it up, and crank the volume up _just_ enough. Feeling exhilarated, you pound through the first half of your extra lap around your neighborhood like a charging bull.

It isn't until the last turn toward your apartment that you realize something's off. The prickling sensation along your skin—oddly familiar, but you just can't place from where—alerts you to the source of your faint distress.

_You're not alone._

You tug your phone out and prepare to hit the emergency services button, just in case, before you turn to get a proper look at the person catching up to you.

...oh.

Well, _that's_ not weird or anything...

The wide, lopsided grin and slightly over-familiar wink Sans levels at you as he reaches your side does little to settle you. You frown your confusion at him, arching a brow in question, but keep on with your run. No sense in stopping now; he obviously has no intention of actually interrupting you. In fact, he seems quite content to join you for the last leg.

...Why a _skeleton—_ a being utterly without flesh or internal organs to worry after the health of—feels the need to join you for exercise, you don't quite understand, but, to each their own.

When you slow to a fast walk near your apartment, you lower your headphones to your neck, turning the volume down, but not bothering to stop the music. "So," you begin, as you slide a glance toward him, eyes locking on the crack beneath his eye like a bad habit before you correct yourself and re-target, landing instead on his eye lights, "there a reason you're following me?" You take a moment to catch your breath. "You my stalker now, or something?"

His grin widens cheekily and he looks to the path ahead, shaking his head slightly. "nah, i just like to take a walk to clear my skull sometimes; figured i'd give your version a _test run_."

You scoff, rolling your eyes slightly. "Sure, sure. And you just happened to decide to do it at the same time you found me out here yesterday? Please tell me you get why this is more than a little weird."

Sans shrugs, his smile not losing one bit of its brightness at your insinuation. "s'all about intent with us monsters. s'not my intention to creep on ya, promise. but it would be a _fibula_ to say i wasn't hopin' to see ya out here."

Arching a skeptical brow, you make an unimpressed 'm-hmm' hum at his claim, then take a deep breath as you look ahead, letting the breath out in a sigh and dropping the matter as the air escapes your lungs. "Well, at least you admit to your stalking, I suppose," you conclude, only half-teasingly. "I'm only gonna be out here for my cool-down, though." You glance at him for a moment, still feeling unsettled by his presence. "Anyway, didja have a good time at the uh... thing you and your brother went to?"

His grin widens somewhat sheepishly at your question and he ducks his skull in apparent embarrassment. "ah, yeah, that. it was fun, i guess. wasn't really my thing, but i was there for paps, so it's cool. he seemed to like it, s'that's all that matters."

You peer over at him curiously, looking him over for a few moments. "You care a lot about him, don't you?"

He looks at you with an expression of amused incredulity. "well yeah, he's my bro. he can come off like a steel-spined asshole on occasion, but he's family. i know you humans are weird about family sometimes, but monsters stick with their family... even if they sometimes wanna smack 'em against a wall a few times to get shit through their thick skulls."

You snort, shrugging lightly and nodding along. "Fair enough. I can't really speak to the whole sibling thing. Single child, here." You raise your hand for a second, claiming your status. "But I can understand what you mean easily enough. I grew up with animals all around me, and they were always my mom's original children." You chuckle awkwardly. "I was the 'oops baby'."

Sans frowns, his grin turning uncertain. "the hell's an 'oops baby'?"

You finally come to a stop, feeling cooled down enough to rest for a moment, though you know you really need to get your stretches done before you're completely chilled out. "Oh, I just meant I was an accident, she didn't mean to have me. Neither did my dad. Condom broke. So uhh yeah. 'Oops baby'." You continue walking, in an effort to stay warmed up a bit. "Anyway, I'm glad you two look out for each other."

He nods, though he's still giving you a look of slightly concerned confusion. Before he can respond in any way, his pants pocket beeps. He slides his phone from the front left pocket, keying it on, his eyes picking over the display quickly. "shit. gotta head to tori's; frisk needs a ride to school."

A slight frown graces your features as you concentrate, trying to remember where you'd heard that name before. It hits you only a second or two later. "Wait, Frisk? Frisk Dreemurr? The human ambassador for the monsters, the one who brought the barrier down all those years ago? You _know_ her?"

Again he nods, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "sure, i do. i was the first monster she met after she made it out of the ruins." He slows to a halt as you do, and indicates his phone with a hurried movement. "tell ya what, ____, i'll _patella_ ya all about it over drinks tomorrow, say, seven o' clock? i'll pick ya up. cool?"

You blink, understandably shocked at his forwardness. "Uh... I don't... I have work tomorrow."

He frowns softly, arching a skeptical brow at you and glancing over your person as if searching for an answer in your being that your words could not possibly give. By the time his eyelights lift back to meet your gaze, his sockets are narrowed by those weird facsimile of eyelids he somehow manages to have, despite his bony appearance. "work. at seven p.m. sure. you a graveyard shifter or somethin'?"

Shit. Well, he's caught you there, and you know it. The blush slowly creeping onto your cheeks is evidence enough of the guilt you feel at your half-assed lie. "I uh... shit, alright, I don't even have a schedule really, but look, this all seems really sudden. I mean I literally met you yesterday, and you also literally _just_ admitted to basically stalking me, I mean... can't you see how this might be a bit of a red flag, here?"

"whoa, hey," he holds his hands up placatingly, "no, I get it. sorry, really. i just uh... well, you seem cool, and i'd like to get to know you, that's all. i promise i don't mean anything bad by it. paps is more the mean pranks guy than i am, _tibia_ honest. but hey, i get it if you don't want to hang around a monster or anything. i know not everyone sees us in a good light, even after all these years."

Your eyes widen in alarm. "No! Wait, that's not it at all. It has nothing to do with you being a monster. I have no problem with monsters, I just..." you fidget, thrown thoroughly off-kilter now. "It's just... fast, even for humans. Maybe give it some time? Join me for runs, even? A drink date directly after meeting someone is a bit too quick for me, sorry."

His features relax in increments as you explain yourself, until he again regains his smirk at your off-handed invitation. By the time you fall silent, he's smiling understandingly, offering a small nod when he replies, "sure, i get that. so when do you normally start runnin', anyway?" He glances down at his phone, seeming to remember that he has to be somewhere, his posture stiffening slightly, but he looks back over at you with a steady, questioning smile. "i'll join ya tomorrow if that's ok."

You relax a bit at his easy acceptance of your preferences, and even more when he actually checks to make sure you're cool with him joining you, despite having invited him, to begin with. You offer him a timid smile. "Sure, yeah. Uh, be here around four." You gesture to your apartment building. "I'm over there. Just text me when you get here, I guess?"

He tosses a lopsided grin at you. "sure thing, ____; but I got to go, or frisk'll be late for social studies." He leans in and his grin turns devious. "knock, knock."

Before you can reply, he promptly steps back, makes a slashing upward motion with one extended finger, and _disappears._

You blink and jerk back from the blatant display of magic. That same tingling sensation is sliding along your skin again, only this time you finally remember _why_ it's familiar.

It's _magic_.

You remember feeling the same thing when that monster Doctor had healed you, and again with Sans's healing yesterday, and... slightly more oddly, his general presence today, apparently. Or had he used magic again, just before you'd turned to see him running with you?

A chill races up your spine and you shudder at the feeling, still trying to comprehend the full meaning of what you sensing magic implies. Sadly, after a few long minutes of contemplation on the subject, you realize that not only do you have no idea what it all means, but you've also neglected to do your stretching, and are now fully cooled off.

Great.

Belatedly, you recall what phrase Sans had left you with, and head back to your apartment, phone in hand, bringing up the text app as you go.

 **____:** Who's there?

You barely get the door open before your phone buzzes.

 **Sans:** my exit.

You frown in confusion, locking the door behind you and replying,

 **____:** ...Your exit, who?

 **Sans:** my exit was rude. sorry about that. didn't scare ya, did i?

You snort a disbelieving laugh at your phone, keying in your somewhat lengthy response and leaving it on the kitchen counter, quickly heading for the shower.

 **____:** Hate to break it to ya _bonehead,_ but that wasn't a joke. Anyway no, I'm fine. Not gonna _fibula_ and say the disappearing act wasn't a little surprising, especially with the little tingles magic usage always seems to give me, but hey, monsters are made of magic, right? If we all freaked out every time you guys did magic, we'd all be in a constant state of panic. No worries, I'll get used to it, if we're gonna be hanging out more. But thanks for the concern, it's sweet.

You opt for a long, hot shower today, stretching as much as you can before you hop in and relishing your time thoroughly, so it takes a while before you see his reply. Grabbing a glass of water to bring with you to the couch, you pluck your phone from the counter, keying it on and checking the already open app.

 **Sans:** it gives you tingles? that's... weird. never heard of that before. that always happens to you when we use magic around you? are you sure?

You frown and set the glass down on your coffee table as you sit, already starting on the reply.

 **____:** Well yeah, every time magic's been used on or around me, why? Is that not a normal thing to feel? I mean, it's _magic._ It's freakin' magic. lol... I can't imagine it would feel normal to anyone.

It takes a while for him to get back to you, and you find yourself feeling more and more anxious the longer you wait. You've picked your phone up and set it down three times, nearly on the verge of sending him another message just to alleviate the tension when the phone finally buzzes.

 **Sans:** don't worry about it, m'sure it's fine. i'll ask tori about it later maybe... or maybe alphys. souls are my expertise, not magic itself.

You scoff at his response. "Well, that's ever-so-informative." With a heavy sigh, you begin to type.

 **____:** So reassuring. Wait, what do you mean, 'expertise'? How exactly does one become an 'expert' at souls, of all things, anyway?

You've turned on a documentary—about monsters, ironically enough—on Netflix, and watched a quarter hour of it by the time he responds.

**Sans:** it's... complicated. would you mind if i gave you the full answer to that one tomorrow?

**____:** ...Uh... I mean, I guess?

 **Sans:** cool. seeya tomorrow, ____.

You purse your lips in a slight scowl, turning your phone's screen off and tossing it on the table, settling in to zone out on the documentary. Half of it sounds like speciest crap to you, but there're scientifically accurate nuggets in there too, which you know are true, from your own curiosity-driven research. There's even a blurb about souls, which, if you're honest, you haven't really cared to look up any info on. You've heard things through the grapevine, but how much of it is true, you have no idea. You listen to the narrator, watching the older video footage with interest. After all, if you're going to be talking to a 'soul expert' tomorrow, you should probably learn something about them, so you're not totally clueless, at least.

_"It wasn't until several months after the monsters came to the surface that we learned of the real, physical existence of souls. Both monsters and humans have these souls, though human and monster souls differ greatly, in strength, appearance, ability, and many other aspects. The charming, cartoonish heart shape of a soul is the only standard measurement of any soul's appearance across the boundaries of the species."_

A small female rabbit monster is shown standing with her back to the wall, next to a female human. An abnormally tall monster, whom you recognize as Toriel Dreemurr, the former queen of monsterkind, gestures first toward the rabbit, then the human, drawing out their souls. It's not the first time you've seen this done, but it's still quite fascinating to watch. _"These are examples of a monster and human soul, as produced by these volunteers. The monster soul on the left clearly features a colorless, upside-down heart. The only change comes when the monster uses her magic."_

You see the bunny woman summon a ball of light. When the camera zooms in on her soul, you notice a slight shift in its appearance—as if an almost imperceptible hue of her magic's color begins to swirl through the center of it, before dissipating into that nearly clear, colorless glow all monsters have in their souls by default.

 _"The human soul, on the other hand,"_ the camera focuses on the human woman's soul, which is an upright heart with an ever-so-pale yellowish cream color, _"is one color and one color only, by default, dependent on the human it is found in. Some colors seem to be tied to certain traits, but a more in-depth study is needed before any accurate measurements of the relationship between the color of one's soul and these attributes can be confirmed or denied. As humans are thus far incapable of using magic, no change has ever been recorded in an adult human soul, at any time."_

The camera zooms back out, panning to include both volunteers in the shot. _"It should be noted that when a soul comes in contact with a physical object, it leaves behind a residue, which will glow faintly for approximately an hour, before subsiding into nonexistence._ "

The summoned souls are sent back to their homes, and indeed, where they pass through their owners’ chests, there is an oddly bright imprint of the soul remaining on both volunteers’ shirts. They are politely asked to move their shirts aside in order to see whether the surface beneath is also marked. Sure enough, the monster's fur and the human's skin, just above the sternum, are both stamped with a heart-shaped, shiny residue. When the human woman attempts to brush the film off, nothing happens. The camera focuses in to capture whether the substance transfers to her fingers, revealing moments later that the stubborn stuff not only hasn't budged but doesn't rub onto any surface other than what the soul directly touches.

"Huh. Weird," you mutter, your eyelids starting to get heavy as you lounge on the couch, your super-productive day finally catching up to you. You sigh deeply and click the TV off, groaning as you stretch and rise from the couch, ambling toward your bedroom. You snatch the phone from the coffee table along the way, sliding it into its charging cradle as you go.

Disrobing and brushing your teeth is a quick affair, and soon you're nestled between your sheets, burrowing into a mountain of pillows with great abandon. It's easy to fall asleep, from here.

Your dreams are oddly disjointed. Dark. Pops of electric static interject themselves, then fade into nothing. You find yourself holding your phone in the dream, and you can see the new message notification light blinking at you petulantly, demanding you check it out. You just can't bring yourself to turn the screen on, for some reason.

A pastel purple light shines in the distance, the only point of light in the darkness.

When you try to look directly at it, it blinks out of existence.

You wake up sweating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❤--[Talks-To-Skeletons (Voidshatter Ask Blog)](https://talks-to-skeletons.tumblr.com/)\--❤
> 
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> 
> ❤--Skype: shannaleia--❤
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> ❤ Thanks for reading! If you enjoy the story or this chapter in particular, please feel free to leave a review with your thoughts! ❤  
>  ❤ I love reading comments and reply to all of them. ❤


	3. A New Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You decide a second chance is in order, and get a little worked up about dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❤️ This chapter edited by my wonderful editor, illusionsfire76. ❤️

You blink groggily at your alarm clock.

It blares the time at you in stark red lettering that causes a groan to escape you.

_8:30 AM_

It’s far past the time you usually get up, which means that freakishly disturbing dream lasted for nearly... wait.

You try to remember what time you went to bed, drawing a bit of a blank at first. Wasn’t it around eight? Yeah, right, you remember catching the time on your phone’s lock screen when you’d set it in its cradle. It was a quarter to nine, so...

You’d just slept for eleven hours.

_What?!_

You never sleep that long—nine hours at the most, and even then you feel lethargic the next day. Not to mention, the only dream you’d had in those eleven long hours was the one that unsettled you so, and had felt like it’d lasted only what, maybe an hour, at most?

What the hell?

You rub at your eyes and try to shake off the whole strange ordeal. Nothing you can do about it now, and you’ve already lost precious daylight. Blinking and sliding out of bed, you carefully pick your way across the floor of your artificially darkened room, to the door. As you open it, sure enough... yep, bright as hell outside your bedroom. Well hell, today’s not looking overly productive.

* * * * *

It doesn’t take much time before you run out of both creative and any other kind of energy for the day. You do manage to start on your next commission, but barely get past the sketch phase, and make a stab at working on the next chapter, but only get about ten words onto the paper. Thoroughly disappointed in yourself, you toss your hands up in disgruntled frustration and head over to the couch, flopping unceremoniously onto it and staring up at the ceiling with a tired scowl.

It’s been a long damn time since your sleep has been interrupted by any kind of issues from your dreamscape. The techniques you’ve been using for years now—which your therapist had long ago recommended for your chronic childhood nightmares—are largely responsible for keeping them at bay.

Honestly, you haven’t had a single bad dream since you were about sixteen, so why this is suddenly happening, ten years later, you have no idea. It scares you a little bit if you’re honest. You don’t know what you’ll do if the old dreams come back. The memories of their cause have had time to fade somewhat—though they could never be _completely_ forgotten, you know—and you have enough coping mechanisms and years of therapy behind you to function... mostly. Adequately to do your job, at least.

Most days.

Absently, you realize it’s time for lunch, and force yourself to get up and sling together something light, but filling. On your way back from the kitchen, you notice your phone’s message alert light blinking, so you pick it up on the way to the couch, setting your plate on the coffee table as you check your messages.

There’s an automated text from your pharmacy, a whole slew of texts from your agent, Carl, and a voice message from... Sans? Huh.

Carl is trying to very excitedly fill you in on the new signing dates and the next set of conventions you could potentially attend. Honestly, you don’t feel like going over it all right now. Maybe tomorrow. You tell him so, then check the pharmacy text. Your prescriptions have been filled, though the birth control is _yet again_ delayed, and due to be filled tomorrow. Why they can’t get their shit together on that one thing, in particular, you don’t know, but it’s the same thing that’s been going on for well over a year now, so it’s nothing new.

Now you click on the voice message notice, keying in your passcode and pressing the phone to your ear as you stab your food with your fork, only pausing your food assault to listen as his voice starts up.

_ “hey, so my bro heard about the whole running thing today and he decided he wanted to come, then he told undyne about it and she wants to come too. i uh... well, i didn’t wanna answer for ya, but i figured ya might be a little more comfortable if it was more of a group thing, instead of just me? but... maybe that could’ve been a bad guess. i don’t know. um... yeah.” _

You hear Papyrus and an almost equally loud female voice arguing about—pasta? you think it’s pasta-related, anyway, in the background.

He continues once the noise fades somewhat, and you can hear a breeze blowing on his phone’s mic now, likely from him going outside to escape the racket. _ “heh, sorry about that. anyway, if you could let me know what you’d prefer, that’d be great. yeah, i know, shush,” _ he hurriedly dismisses whoever had made some signal or comment to him that you hadn’t quite caught, _“also uh, d’you mind if we all go somewhere to eat after? i mean, if you’re cool with them both coming to run, that is. i... i don’t mean to... ah, hell.” _

His voice fades for a moment as if he’s pulled the phone away from his face, and all you can hear is a slight rustling, and the wind creating a dull, staticky roar. After a few seconds, the sound ebbs and you hear a light clack, which sounds a bit like something softly hitting bone, and his voice returns, albeit somewhat nervously. _ “sorry, sorry. anyway uhh yeah, if that’s all cool, or not, whatever, just text me or somethin’ and let me know, and i’ll let them know. no pressure or anything, i promise. it’s cool, either way. heh. i’m just gonna hang up now you guys are just makin’ it worse i swe—” _

His reprimand of his brother and friend—you assume it was them, at least— is cut off, as he obviously made good on his threat and terminated the call.

You end the call and sit there, staring vacantly at your... wait, what did you make? You focus for a second, looking at what’s on your plate, unfocusing again the moment you realize it’s just a salad. Spearing a bit of lettuce and a cucumber slice, then shoving it into your face, you ponder Sans’ offer as you chew. On the one hand, it _would_ be less awkward of a situation if there were more people present.

On the other, it would also be _more_ awkward, because of your social anxiety, and there being more than one other person involved in the situation. You can already feel that little voice stirring in the back of your mind, your self-doubt, playing back the endless recording of all the things you’re going to be worrying about during the encounter.

So, which is worse to deal with?

You weigh your options and find both wanting. You consider that it would be the easiest thing to just deny both options altogether, and call the whole thing off. But, that would also be rude as hell, and despite the rather bad first impressions both skeletons—no, no, don’t think of them as skeletons, or you’ll never give them a fair chance thanks to your damned fear! Monsters. They’re just _monsters—_ have managed to make, Sans seemed rather eager in his message to make up for it with the new offer.

And well... you’ve always believed in second chances. After all, the only reason you’re able to sustain yourself with your chosen profession is that you, yourself were once given such a chance. You dish a croûton and some spinach onto your tongue as you swipe to your text app.

 **____:** Hey, uh... sure. Why not? I’ll warn you, I’m not so great at the socializing thing, but if we’ll be running, how bad could it be, right? Heh... right. Anyway yeah, let’s do the thing. I’d love to meet this Undyne person. Just uh... no more than Papyrus and Undyne for today, okay? I can’t handle too many people at once.

You hit send and dive into your salad munching, trying to expend the nervous jitters you’ve gained in the typing of your message through vigorous inhaling of various vegetables. Your fork clanks loudly against the plate when the text chime startles you.

 **Sans:** sounds good. don’t worry, you’re not the only person we know who struggles with anxiety. we’re a pretty understanding bunch on that count, so i don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about. or, y’know, worry if you want. up to you. just... know you don’t have to. that’s all. but sure, i’ll let ‘em know it’s cool. and ____... thanks.

You take a deep breath and finish your salad, resolving to deal with the situation when it’s actually _time_ to do so. By the time you’re taking the plate to the sink, you’ve almost calmed down enough to let your trembling subside completely.

It’s a start, anyway.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❤--[Talks-To-Skeletons (Voidshatter Ask Blog)](https://talks-to-skeletons.tumblr.com/)\--❤
> 
> ❤--[My Book](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00QZ5AI1K)\--❤--[Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/SableWolfe)\--❤--[Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/A2832IP7)\--❤
> 
> ❤--Skype: shannaleia--❤
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> ❤ Thanks for reading! If you enjoy the story or this chapter in particular, please feel free to leave a review with your thoughts! ❤  
>  ❤ I love reading comments and reply to all of them. ❤


	4. Girlfriend Material

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans is reminded of the past, and you are treated to the fine wine that is Undyne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❤️ This chapter edited by my wonderful editor, illusionsfire76. ❤️

Sans looks up from his phone and sighs, watching his brother and Undyne tearing through the living room on their usual circuit around the house's central wall, chasing each other like they have a hundred times before. It's an old game, one they've been playing since the brothers got this place. Today, it looks like Paps is gonna win. Maybe.

"I'm gonna get you, you weenie!" Undyne insists, despite flagging almost a half-wall's length behind his long-legged brother.

"NOT TODAY, UNDYNE! NYEH HEH HEE-CRAP!" his brother exclaims, as he runs smack into a purposely stalled Undyne, who only grins at him smugly.

"I toldja I'd get ya!" she proclaims exultantly, and punctuates her gloating by deftly dragging Paps into a headlock for her patented power noogie. ™.

" _UNDYNE!"_ Paps screeches, utterly indignant at the treatment and struggling to free himself ineffectually.

"Fuhuhuhuhuh chill out, you dork. Sanster!" Sans cringes at the nickname as Undyne abruptly drops Papyrus in favor of slinging her arm over his shoulder and focusing on Sans. "Did your girlfriend give you an answer yet, or is she still too busy bein' a _nerd_?"

"toldja not t'call me that, undyne," he chides, "it's a bad habit. anyway yeah, she just texted me. says it's cool." he holds his hands up to halt the inevitable impending overflow of enthusiasm at the news. "but guys, she's like alphys, ok? real anxious; not so good with lotsa people. so don't crowd her too much, k? be friendly, but give her space, yeah? and she's not my girlfriend," he tacks on, belatedly.

"Pffffuhuh _sure_ , because you always get all flustered when you call girls that you aren't in _loooove_ with." Undyne rolls her eye dramatically, clearly not believing him.

Sans shrugs, knowing it'll be easier to get her to drop it through laziness and distraction than arguing. "whatever. still got another three hours 'till it's time to head over. movie time?"

"YES! I WISH TO VIEW THE SECOND ONE ABOUT TAMING DRAGONS, SO I MAY FURTHER DISCREDIT ITS ACCURACY." Papyrus crosses his arms, one browbone lifted sternly.

"Pffft. You just wanna drool over the animations, you NERD!" Undyne again rolls her eye, reaching up to rub a softer noogie into Papyrus' skull.

Papyrus eventually deigns to unfold his arms and bat her away acrimoniously. "THAT. TOO," he finally concedes.

Sans offers up a smile and retrieves the DVD from the shelf. "sounds good, bro. anyone else want popcorn? i'm thinkin' of makin' some."

Papyrus groans disapprovingly as he takes his seat next to Undyne on the couch. "YOU MEAN YOU'RE GOING TO BUY SOME FROM THE THEATER AGAIN, AREN'T YOU? STILL SO LAZY, EVEN AFTER ALL THESE YEARS OF TRYING TO TURN YOU INTO A RESPONSIBLE SKELETON, SANS. IT'S DISAPPOINTING."

Sans tilts his head, donning a lopsided smile to hide how much his brother's words sting. "s'ok bro; you did enough changin' for the both of us. be back in a sec."

He winks and slices into the fabric of reality, then steps through into a quiet little alcove of the movie theater they've been going to for years, closing up the cut behind him and heading to the counter.

* * * * *

A text alert stirs you from your nap, waking you soundly from the dream which is now fading quickly enough to be forgotten by the time you turn your screen on. Groaning sleepily, you check the message a bit blindly, belatedly noticing the sender.

 **Sans:** hey, we're out where you said to meet you. you ready or need a few?

You grunt as you shift to sit up and answer, nearly dropping the phone in your groggy haste.

 **____:** Gimme a few; just woke up from a nap. I'll be out in five.

 **Sans:** k.

You yawn widely and pocket the phone, standing and snatching your headphones from where they lay on the kitchen bar, next to the charging cradle. You brush your teeth and hair quickly and shove your running shoes on, straightening and twisting both to stretch and pop your back in one. It's a bad habit, but it's one you've had since you were a teen, so why stop now, right? You grab your keys and it's out the door with you, heading to the stairs at the end of the breezeway and making your way down to the ground floor.

When you get to the front of your building, you spy the trio you're bound to meet up with, and the discomfort starts to edge its way into your mind. You double-check your clothing; ensuring nothing's on inside-out, you check to see if your tag's showing, and make sure your laces are securely tied. Running a hand down your face, you shake yourself and try your best to plaster on something close to a genuine smile. Check, check, and check.

Well, it's all still less than ideal, but it'll have to do.

Shit. Do monsters sweat?

You realize you have no idea.

What if they think you're really gross?

No, wait, it's been what, eight, ten years since they got out of the mountain? Surely they've seen sweaty humans before. They must've.

Rationalizing things helps, but you're still a bit of a raw nerve bundle by the time you actually reach them.

Showtime.

Sans gives you an encouraging smile, seeming to recognize and have some sympathy for your plight.

God, is it that obvious? Fuck.

You note that the monsters present are all wearing some form of track clothing. Oh. Maybe they do sweat, then. Good to know.

You wave timidly at them, gaze darting from Sans to Papyrus, then over the rather muscular, but lanky—what is she, a piranha monster?—woman standing with an arm slung over Papyrus' shoulders. She seems... strangely familiar.

Your attention snaps back to Sans when he's the first to speak. "hey ____, glad you could make it. so uh, you know paps already, but the fish lady's undyne the undying, captain of the royal guard."

Oh. Well, that explains why she looks familiar. You've seen her on TV plenty of times, just... more formally dressed—or more heavily armored.

Undyne regards you appraisingly for a moment, before she issues a quick nod. "Sup, punk? Sanster says you run a lot. Said you ran right into Papster, too."

Both skeletons object to something, though their combined outcries of _"Undyne!"_ don't make the target of their ire any clearer.

Undyne rolls her eye and scoffs. " _Fine_ , you dweebs. Sans and Papyrus. Happy now? Fuh." She shakes her head. " _Anyway,_ if you weenies are done interrupting me," she glances askance at the brothers, then focuses on you again, "I was gonna say me and Papyrus run too. We've tried runnin' with some humans before, but they were all too wimpy to keep up. You think you got what it takes, punk?"

Sans (Sanster? Heh. You think it suits him, oddly enough.) grumbles a bit, then finally speaks up. "undyne, what'd i say before the movie, when i got her text sayin' it was cool?"

Undyne seems entirely unfazed by his reminder. "Said she was like Alphys, right? But I am, Sans, it's _fine_. Not like I'm gonna suplex her or some shit, jeez."

Sans claps a gloved palm to his face, shrouding his eyesockets in a curtain of fine bones. It isn't until now that you realize you can see a funny indent in the bone through the open space on the back of the glove, almost like there's a... a _hole_ in his hand. Stealing a look at his other hand confirms the presence of the hole there, as well. Before you can utterly distract yourself and check his brother's hands—maybe it's a skeleton monster thing? A family trait? Or maybe even a masochistic tradition of some sort? Yeesh—Sans overcomes his frustration and replies.

"just... be nice, ok?"

"I _am_ being nice, Sans! Sheesh, I get she's your girlfriend—"

"I'm not his—"

"she's not my—"

"girlfriend!" you finish together, only realizing it as you fall silent, to the soundtrack of Undyne cracking up.

"Fuhuhuhuhahahahaha! Your faces! _Priceless_! You guys are _so_ girlfriends."

"He's not a girl, that doesn't even make sense," you point out, rather reasonably, you think. Honestly, the only reason you aren't completely freaking out at the thought that he might've said something to the effect of you being his girlfriend is literally because Undyne seems so dead-set on it, despite both of your insistence to the contrary. She seems as stubborn as she is eager to flex—that is to say, _quite._ And _frequently._

Undyne frowns. "So what? Ugh, nerds. C'mon, we gonna run or what?" Without waiting for an answer, she gets into starting position, as if she's about to begin a _race_ , and counts down. Papyrus joins her by the time she reaches two, and before you can so much as blink, they're off!

When you do manage to blink, you look over at Sans, a bewildered expression slowly overcoming the confusion still clinging to your features. "She... doesn't _seriously_ expect us to _race,_ does she? I'm an endurance runner, not a sprinter. I mean, I _can_ sprint, but—"

Sans holds a calming hand up, waiting for you to stop before he speaks. "i uh... might've forgot to mention that undyne can be a little... intense. my bad. she's like this with everyone. believe it or not, she actually _is_ toning things down some for this."  He sighs, shaking his head. "anyway, we can go at whatever pace you want. you set the speed, i'll stick with you. they'll figure it out eventually and come back to join us, no worries."

You nod and start up your playlist on shuffle, letting the headphones dangle around your neck so you can still hear your running partner and the beat. "Sounds good. I start off a lot slower than they do, you cool with that?"

He nods, tossing a crooked smile at you. "yeah. i go at your pace, remember? lead the way, ____."

So you do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❤--[Talks-To-Skeletons (Voidshatter Ask Blog)](https://talks-to-skeletons.tumblr.com/)\--❤
> 
> ❤--[My Book](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00QZ5AI1K)\--❤--[Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/SableWolfe)\--❤--[Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/A2832IP7)\--❤
> 
> ❤--Skype: shannaleia--❤
> 
> ❤ Thanks for reading! If you enjoy the story or this chapter in particular, please feel free to leave a review with your thoughts! ❤  
>  ❤ I love reading comments and reply to all of them. ❤


	5. Loyalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You learn a few things and make a friend or two. At least, you _think_ you do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❤️ This chapter edited by my wonderful editor, illusionsfire76. ❤️

It's... well, it's a _good run._

As Sans predicted, his brother and the guard Captain had fallen back to join you, and after a few complaints from the fish monster, they'd settled into your pace amicably. It's during the first four laps that she informs you of Papyrus' position as her second-in-command. Papyrus had puffed his chest out proudly at this, boasting that he'd been promoted through the ranks in record time, and was, in fact, the youngest monster in history to achieve the rank, outside of wartime.

You slide your attention to Sans, arching your brow curiously. "And you? What do you do? Do you work with your brother?"

The group comes to a standstill as Undyne and Papyrus both burst into snorted laughter and cyan dusts itself over Sans' cheeks like a... is he _blushing?_ Well, that's definitely one for the monster manuals. Before he can do anything but awkwardly scratch the back of his skull, Undyne finally manages to get something other than laughter out.

 _"Stars_ no! That nerd works with his dad and my wife in the royal laboratory. They've been working with humans for years on different things, like combining our magic with your tech—y'know, like the inventory you've probably got in your phone, yeah?" She jerks her chin toward the mentioned device in my hand. "Human tech is my wife's specialty. This nerd's been working with his dad on... what'd the Doc call it? Practical storage and application of magical... somethin' somethin'." She flaps her hand dismissively. "Anyway, I'll have to tell Asgore you thought Sanster would _ever_ make it into the guard. The king could use a good laugh."

"UNDYNE," Papyrus snaps, "DO NOT BE SO QUICK TO JUDGE MY LAZY BROTHER. PERHAPS HE WILL SUDDENLY DECIDE TO SHOW THE INITIATIVE WORTHY OF A BOSS MONSTER AND CHALLENGE YOU FOR YOUR POSITION. IT IS HIS RIGHT, AFTER ALL." He turns to his brother, a sly, haughty expression sliding onto his features. "BUT, WHO AM I KIDDING? SANS WILL NEVER SHOW AN OUNCE OF INITIATIVE. THE VERY THOUGHT IS LAUGHABLE." The tall skeleton laughs uproariously, and Undyne joins him... if a bit less enthusiastically—her attention shifting nervously to Sans for just a moment before losing herself to her mirth.

Watching the shame slumping Sans' now seemingly small frame and crumpling his features, despite the calm mask he tries to cover it with...

_it fills you with Determination._

Wedging yourself between Sans and his two bullies, you face the jerks and square off your stance. The fact that you're putting a skeleton at your back and facing off another, taller one suddenly registers in your brain, making you stumble over your words at first. "H-hey! Didn't your p-parents teach you manners when you were kids? Just because he's _smart_ doesn't m-mean he's worth any less than you are. M-maybe the reason he doesn't show any initiative is because of people like _you,_ always pushing him down every time he tries to stand up!"

You feel a thin, light grip on your arm and turn your head to look at its source. It takes every inch of self-control you have left not to shrink from the disturbingly warm, bony touch.

"____, it's okay." Sans frowns worriedly at you. "don't worry about it, _please_ , it's not worth it."

You gape at him, then shake your head. "No, Sans, it is _so_ not okay. Nobody deserves to be put down like that, especially by his own brother. You support _him,"_ you add, tossing an accusatory glare at Papyrus, "so why doesn't he support _you?"_

Papyrus tilts his head, narrowing his eye sockets to thin black slits and stepping forward until he's directly in front of you, towering over you menacingly. Sans tugs gently, but urgently on your arm, trying to get you to back down. You stand your ground, despite the fact that you're now trembling... though whether it's from adrenaline or genuine fear is up for debate.

Papyrus bends down until he's right in your face, nasal bone inches from your own fleshier version. His voice is eerily lowered, both in volume and tone as he finally deigns to speak. "Human, you would do well to refrain from injecting yourself into situations where you do not know the full story. If you want to side with my useless brother, that is your business; I certainly won't stop you. Perhaps it will finally motivate him to do something useful. But know this: not everything is always as it seems, and you may wish to understand his circumstances more fully before you leap to his defense. Nobly meant or not, your efforts, in this case, are utterly futile. I will speak no more on this until you learn the proper truth from him. Until then, I suggest keeping your nose _out of it."_

Before you can respond, he straightens and returns to Undyne's side. The fish monster now seems to be regarding you with something like appraisal; though it's difficult to gauge it as precisely as you'd like, due to the sharp, snaggle-toothed mouth, the single, scarred eye, and the patch covering the other one. She could just be wondering if you'd be worth the trouble to skin and eat, for all you can honestly tell.

Sans' weak grip on your arm falters, then loosens entirely; thin, long phalanges slipping from your skin and falling to his side. You hear a sigh from him behind you, but he says nothing in his defense.

Your fists tighten and release a few times, finally issuing your own heavy sigh into the air. "Fine."

You turn and resume your run, determined not to let anything ruin it. Right now, you don't know Sans well enough to ask him what the hell that was about. You've always preferred people to come to you when they're ready for those kinds of talks, rather than prying the truth from them before they're willing to spill. Much as it irks you to see that kind of abusive bullying, _especially_ amongst family, it really is none of your business.

The first person to catch up to you is Undyne, her shoes’ soles scraping bits of gravel on the concrete to your right flank. "Hey, punk! Listen, that..." she lowers her voice some as she nears you, and you realize the brothers are lagging far enough behind that you can speak between the two of you without being heard, "that was pretty badass of you to stick up for him, even if... well. He really doesn't deserve it. I know that sounds cruel, but it's true. He'll probably tell you why soon enough now, but I promise we wouldn't think badly of him for no reason."

You shrug, keeping up with your pace as you talk between breaths. "It's none of my business. I don't know him well enough. I just don't like bullying, which is what I saw. Deserved or not, it's still bullying, and abusive."

Undyne nods slightly, turning her eye to the path ahead. "You're not wrong, ____. And for what it's worth, I'm sure he appreciates what you did. Fuhuh, he's never had anyone stick up for him like that, especially against Papster. Wouldn't be surprised if you've made a fan today." She gives you a little smile. "And a friend or two."

You look up at her, eyes narrowed for a second, watching a sharp smile rise on the fish monster's mouth. "A friend, huh? You don't mind that I'm a weenie human?"

"Pffhuhuhuh." She nudges you and you stumble off the walkway, but make your way back readily enough. "We'll get you in shape soon enough, _weenie!_ Don't worry about that. I'd rather have a weakling who'll stand up for their friends than the strongest boss monster who'll stomp on you when you're down any day. Papster'll come around, no worries. He's rough around the edges, but he's got a good heart."

You glance askance at the woman. "'A good heart'? He's a skeleton—how can he have a heart?"

She winces at that. "Ouch, human. Sharp tongue, much? I get he's an asshole, but trust me, he's got a heart. 'Sides, is that the way you feel about Sanster, too?"

"They're _skeletons,"_ you repeat, "literally just bones, right? No organs? At least I haven't seen any."

Undyne snorts and shakes her head. "Human ignorance never ceases to amaze me. Haven't you ever read a monster manual? Even a single one?"

You grimace slightly, shaking your own head. "Afraid not. Guess I could order a few to check out. Any you recommend?"

She gives you a comically disbelieving look. "Pfff! Yeah, right! I don't read that boring loser shit. I already know about monsters—I _am_ one. It's you humans that need an education. Anyway yeah, we all have hearts, organs, you name it. We just might not always show them. Or, in the skelebros' case, they might be completely invisible. But that makes perfect sense; I mean, they're not _supposed_ to be showing their squishy bits."

You arch a skeptical brow at this assertion. "...If you say so. I'll be sure to check out some monster manuals then. Maybe I'll ask Sans which ones are the better ones since he's... what, a scientist of some sort?"

The fish monster nods. "Something like that. He's got a doctorate, but don't call him Dr. Aster unless you wanna piss him off—he _hates_ it when people call him that outside of work. So," she again nudges you, more gently this time, "you like the nerd or what?"

You huff a laugh and shake your head. "Not like _that_ I don't, no. I barely know the man... monster... skeleton?" You look to her for confirmation or correction. She shrugs, so you continue, "Anyway, I just met him a couple days ago; that's nowhere near enough time to figure something like that out. Not for me, at least."

She looks a bit put out for a moment but forges on anyway. "Well that's cool, I guess. I mean, you do like him as a person or a friend, right?"

You're honestly feeling more than a bit pressured at this point, but you really don't have a method of dealing with people who are _this_ pushy, so instead, you cave. "Uh... sure? I guess? More like acquaintance right now; we're in the getting to know each other phase."

"Fuhuhuh, we'll get you there, ____!" Undyne beams down at you, larger than life. "You'll be making friendship fettuccine in no time, trust me!"

You blink confusedly. "'Friendship fettuccine'?"

She gapes at you. "You don't know what friendship fettuccine is?!" At your confirmation of your ignorance, she turns and runs backward, shouting back at the skeletons still keeping pace about ten feet behind you, "HEY LOSERS! HOW SET ON GRILLBY'S ARE YOU? THIS NERD," she hooks a thumb at you, "DOESN'T KNOW WHAT FRIENDSHIP FETTUCCINE IS!"

"WHAT?" Papyrus is the first to bellow back, "HUMAN, HOW CAN YOU BE IGNORANT OF FRIENDSHIP FETTUCCINE? IT IS THE GREATEST AND MOST SACRED TRADITION OF FRIENDSHIP IN THE WORLD!"

As you're nearing the end of your usual daily run, you slow to a fast walk to begin your cooldown, casting a glance over your shoulder at the—honestly ridiculously—tall skeleton behind you. "I can make a mean fettuccine alfredo, but I'm sorry to say, I've never heard of friendship fettuccine. Care to clue me in?"

Sans speaks up now, making you peek over your other shoulder to acknowledge him. "it's the same thing, you just cook it with friends. lots of monsters cook food together to create stronger bonds in their relationships in general; this just so happens to be undyne and pap's preferred food, and oldest tradition."

Papyrus huffs. "THOUGH I AM LOATH TO AGREE WITH MY BROTHER ON ANYTHING, HE SPEAKS THE TRUTH, IN THIS CASE. I, PAPYRUS THE MIGHTY, AM THE FOURTH GREATEST CHEF IN ALL OF MONSTERDOM; BESTED ONLY BY UNDYNE, METTATON, AND NATURALLY, GOOD QUEEN TORIEL."

Sans elbows his brother in the hip. "you forgot muffet and grillbz, bro."

Papyrus frowns at his brother, his tone somehow patiently condescending as he responds, "WHILE MUFFET IS VERY GREAT, SHE IS A BAKER, NOT A CHEF, SANS. IT'S AN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT CLASS. AND ALL GRILLBY MAKES IS GREASY BAR FOOD. THERE IS NO COMPARISON."

Sans shrugs. "true enough, bro." He looks to Undyne. "maybe save the friendship fettuccine for tomorrow? i was pretty set on one of grillbz' burgs today."

Undyne scoffs, rolling her eye slightly. "Yeah, but we go there like, every other day. Friendship fettuccine only happens once in awhile!" She pivots to face you, clasping her hands in front of her and pleading with you. "C'mon human, don't you want a home-cooked meal instead of that greasy bar food?"

You turn to face the skeletons and start walking backward, your pace slowing as you near your apartment complex. "What's Grillby's serve?"

Sans shrugs. "typical burger joint, really. it's a bar too, though, so any drink you can imagine, to top it off. it's a pretty family-friendly place during the day; more adult-oriented after dark. owned and run by a good friend of mine, a fire elemental by the name of grillbz."

Your brows scrunch together in confusion. "'Grillbz'? I thought the place was called Grillby's?"

"THAT IS MERELY MY RIDICULOUSLY LAZY BROTHER'S NICKNAME FOR THE MAN," Papyrus corrects, glaring at his brother. "HIS ACTUAL NAME IS GRILLBY."

You tilt your head in thought, finally coming to a standstill in front of your complex and leaning into a side stretch as you talk. "Alright, a burger joint and bar combo sounds fantastic right now, actually." You toss a kind smile at Undyne. "Friendship fettuccine tomorrow maybe? Or whenever we can all get together again?"

She seems a bit disappointed, but nods at your suggestion. "Sure thing, ya weenie. We're gonna make the best friendship fettuccine _EVER_." She pumps her fist enthusiastically, ensuring that at least half of the motion is pure flexing.

As you straighten out of stretching your other side, you flash a smile at all of them. "Sounds good." You gesture to your apartment. "This is me; gonna go grab a shower and get ready. Where do you guys want to meet to head to Grillby's?"

Undyne shrugs, uncaring. "Here's fine for me."

The skeletons nod their agreement.

You take a breath and nod. "Cool. Meet back here in half an hour, forty-five or so? Not sure how far you guys are..." You gesture vaguely, ending in a half-shrug.

"SANS WILL TEXT YOU WHEN WE ARRIVE, HUMAN." Papyrus looks to Undyne, holding a hand out.

She takes a step forward and accepts his hand.

Papyrus extends a finger to the side, slashing downward with it, as if slicing into something. A thin, tall slit of blackness—though no, it's not _just_ blackness, it's like... exactly like when you try to look at the splits in their skulls; an emptiness, a vacuum that sucks your attention into it, almost feeling like it could steal your soul right along with it... the thought makes you shudder—appears, mid-air, just past where he'd gestured to. He leads the way into it, gently tugging Undyne behind him, who tosses you a smile and a wave just before she steps through, as though it's a perfectly ordinary, natural thing to just walk right through a hole in reality.

The slit seals itself a moment later, finally releasing you from its tugging gravity. You shake yourself, suppressing a shiver that crawls its way up your back, then turn to Sans. "So... you can both do that. Good to know. What... _is_ that? Some kind of teleportation?"

He snorts, a half-smile forming on the bone covering his mouth, which seems only just malleable enough to be lips... somehow. "something like that. more like... hm." He ponders it for a moment, his smile growing. "ever seen dune?"

You nod. Having grown up in a household full of sci-fi nuts, it was unavoidable. You'd rather enjoyed the movie, personally. "Sure, yeah. You trying to say your magic is like spice, and their space folding is your uh... teleportation?"

A grin spreads wide across his face, a light tinge of cyan coating his cheekbones. "got it in one, ____. didn't take you for a sci-fi fan."

You chuckle softly. "Kinda grew up on it, actually. Star Trek, Star Wars, Andromeda, Red Dwarf, Stargate, Babylon 5; you name it, I probably watched it, or wanted to."

His jaw dropped about midway through you listing off some of the various shows you'd seen as a younger you, and didn't click shut until a few seconds after you'd fallen silent. "i think i'm in love." he clutches his chest dramatically, snickering. "seriously though, that's _really_ cool. we should hang out and watch something soon; i've got everything you listed and lots, _lots_ more on dvd. just let me know when. it'll be great to have someone to watch some of it with for once."

You snigger at his mild dramatics but nod enthusiastically. "Absolutely! I'd love to, actually. It's been ages since I've seen any of it, so it'll be great to see whatever you want to watch."

He gives you a lopsided grin, then jerks his thumb over his shoulder, almost reluctantly. "i uh, sh-should probably go get ready. but hey, see you in thirty, yeah?"

You nod your affirmation, smiling back at him just as brightly. "Yeah. I think I'm looking forward to this, actually."

He huffs his amusement softly. "well good." He hesitates, shifting his weight from foot to foot nervously, small beads of sweat forming on his skull. "it was uh... heh, _spice_ to run with you today... do... w-would you mind if i add my particular flavor to the mix tomorrow, too?"

You can feel your cheeks heat slightly and swallow to calm your nerves at his request, letting a small smile lift the left corner of your mouth. "Tomorrow's a rest day for me, sorry. I run five days, rest two. But we could maybe do the show or movie watching thing tomorrow? Or next day... something." You shrug your shoulders unhelpfully.

He seems to latch onto that possibility like a lifeline, nodding eagerly. "y-yeah! yeah, that... sounds great, actually."

You want to ask a multitude of questions right now, but half of them feel like they’d be offensive, and the others seem too personal to ask. Instead of dwelling on them, you gesture offhandedly—and a tad awkwardly—to your apartment, turning part way toward it, even as you look at him. "I should... probably head inside and get ready." You smile, waving a quick goodbye as you start to head off. "I'll seeya in a bit."

"s-sure, yeah. i'll be here." he smiles and waves right back, the latter movement a bit jerky and rushed. Just before you turn completely, you see him cutting through the fabric of reality, and stepping through.

It's gonna be a wild ride, getting to know these monsters.

Tonight might be... rather interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❤--[Talks-To-Skeletons (Voidshatter Ask Blog)](https://talks-to-skeletons.tumblr.com/)\--❤
> 
> ❤--[My Book](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00QZ5AI1K)\--❤--[Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/SableWolfe)\--❤--[Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/A2832IP7)\--❤
> 
> ❤--Skype: shannaleia--❤
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> ❤ Thanks for reading! If you enjoy the story or this chapter in particular, please feel free to leave a review with your thoughts! ❤  
>  ❤ I love reading comments and reply to all of them. ❤


	6. Skeledorks and Flaming Hot Bartenders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You discover that teleportation isn't so bad, and men made of flame are something you'd _really_ like to see on gratuitous display.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❤️ This chapter edited by my wonderful editor, illusionsfire76. ❤️

By the time they all return to the front of your apartment, you've been nervously waiting nearby for three minutes. It'd struck you during your shower that you'd essentially agreed to go over to your... well, your _stalker's house_ in the next day or so, just to hang out and binge sci-fi. When had you become so comfortable with him? Granted, your opinion of him had changed somewhat during the run and Undyne was clearly running more interference between you two than she even seems conscious of, but now you're left with far more questions than answers.

Why had you agreed so readily? Did it really just take a bit of shyly flustered quasi-flirting from him for you to forget your fears? Were those fears truly that unimportant to you? You'd held tight to them your entire life, but suddenly the variables have changed, utterly obliterating your previous calculations.

They aren't just skeletons. They aren't specters of death.

They're only monsters.

If someone had said that to you ten years ago, you would've recommended they be committed, but it's become simple fact over the years: monsters exist, they're friendly, they're _here to stay_. Only bigots and ignorant assholes ever give them any trouble now, and you're neither, despite your hang-ups.

You're scuffing your sneakers in a bit of gravel built up by the wall you're leaning on when a very skinny pair of legs comes into your view. You look out beyond the scope of your hoodie's hood, noting Sans standing in front of you, flanked by Undyne and Papyrus.

He's changed into a pair of navy jeans and a black hoodie of his own with a faux fur-lined hood. He lifts a hand from his hoodie's pocket and waves. "heya. so, you ready?"

You issue a soft nod after a moment, noting Undyne and Papyrus' similarly casual attire and relaxing some, thankful you hadn't misjudged the dress code for the evening. "Sure. We driving, or—"

Undyne snorts, sharing an amused glance with Papyrus before looking back to you. "Yeah, right! These nerds can teleport and you want to clog up the air with more fumes? Don't think so, ____." She waves you on, a somewhat superior smirk gracing her lips. "C'mon punk, let's blow this joint."

It isn't until Sans extends his own hand to you that you notice Undyne's already linked with Papyrus', along with the slit in reality that the tall skeleton carves next to him. Belatedly, your brain catches up to the fact that you're about to _teleport_ , and the cacophony of conflicting emotions that surges through you overloads you for a few long seconds. Excitement wars with fear, wars with caution, wars with anticipation; before you can second-guess your actions, you swallow thickly and abruptly shove your hand into Sans', your eyes wide as you give him a firm nod.

He gives you a smile that's likely meant to be reassuring, but the noise in your mind leaves you beyond reassurance—the only thing that will calm your nerves at this point is getting it all over with. "don't let go, okay?" He gives you a serious look, clearly trying to convey the weight of his words. "once you get used to doin' this, you'll be able to step through on your own, but until then we gotta stay close. got it?"

You nod shakily, though it must be firm enough to convince him that you understand, because a tick later, his features ease into a calm smile and he cuts a hole in the world without looking. He reaffirms his grip on your hand and steps through the slit without hesitation, tugging you gently along behind him. Naturally, you tense up, closing your eyes against whatever catastrophe may be about to assault your existence, even as you keep walking... albeit reluctantly.

You feel something rather pointy tapping your shoulder and blink your eyes open, looking around to see—it's an alley. You note Undyne and Papyrus rounding the corner toward the mouth of it, hands now unlinked, chatting animatedly about something that escapes your grasp at the moment. You look over to gape at Sans, again swallowing tightly against your now ragged nerves. Finally, you remember you can talk.

"W-was... did we just... that... that was it?!"

He bursts out laughing, phalanges twitching and tightening slightly around your fingers as he lets loose his amusement. It takes a bit, during which you flit your attention from him to your surroundings a few times in mild wonderment before he calms down enough to respond.

He nods, still grinning broadly. "yup, that was it. what, did you think there'd be a teleporter noise or something? 'beam me up, scotty'?" At this, he dissolves into more sniggering, if a tad subdued from his earlier outburst.

You scowl at him, narrowing your eyes sharply. "No, that wasn't what I meant. And that's a misquote. That phrase is never actually uttered on the show or in the movies." You relax from your scowling and roll your eyes. "Anyway, I guess I just thought there'd be more to it. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's still amazing, but I thought there'd be some sort of..." you gesture vaguely, then shrug, trailing off, "I don't know."

He chuckles softly and nods toward the mouth of the alley. "i get you. c'mon, let's get some grub."

At the gentle pull of his distals on your hand, you clear your throat. "Uh, sure. Can I have my hand back, now?"

He drops your hand as if it had burned him. "shit! sorry. ah, uh... right." He coughs awkwardly and you can see a deeply cyan blush rising onto his cheeks just as he turns to lead the way out of the alley.

Shaking your head and wondering at the oddity of a skeleton blushing, you follow him out onto a surprisingly busy small-town sidewalk. Heading right and passing a few businesses—which appear to be either monster-owned, or openly advertised as monster-friendly—you reach one with a few tables out front, a wide awning partially shielding them from the weather. Quickly glancing up at the signage confirms you've reached your destination, 'GRILLBY'S' backlit in bright blue letters above the awning. A large wolf stands guard by the front door, arms crossed.

Sans nods at the wolf, just as he reaches out for the door handle. "sup, ice? you remember to charge the bots before you came up today?"

The wolf— _Ice,_ apparently—smiles and returns Sans' nod. "Sure did bud. Thanks again for those things; they've taken a heck of a load off my back. Nice to know things'll stay cool down there without me on the job all the time."

You can see Sans' grin as he opens the door and gestures back for you to go in first. "sure thing, ice. just glad it helped. hey, this is ____, undyne, paps and i's new running buddy. thought we'd bring her over to meet the whole gang today. he got any specials going?"

Ice shakes his—he _sounds_ male, anyway—head. "Nah, just the usual today." He shifts his attention to you. "Running buddy, eh? Well, long as she doesn't cause trouble." He jerks his head toward the building. "Head on in. Just know we look out for our own."

You nod, eager to agree. While Ice himself doesn't seem overly intimidating—despite his stature and build—you know the warning is serious. Long as it had taken for monsters to gain full, equal rights, they finally had, _including_ the public use of their magic—that last bit coming only three years past or so. The message is clear: this place is protected; safe for monsters and humans sympathetic to their cause. Speciest bullshit will not be tolerated.

At your acceptance, the wolf smiles, easing himself against the wall. "Have fun."

When you finally slip between Sans and Ice and through the door, you're struck by how homey and relaxed the interior is. Booths and tables litter the walls and floor, stools providing a quiet hedge in front of the long bar, where it proudly stands by the back wall. A pair of moon doors leads into the back, and likely the kitchen. A jukebox dominates the small stage to the right, softly plying the air with what you realize is a mix of human and monster music. A mic stand and a few shorter stools are tucked off to the side of the stage; out of the way, but available in a pinch.

Monsters and a few humans populate the establishment, several looking up as you come in, eying you curiously. Almost as one, when Sans enters behind you, those gazes slide to him, smiles and welcoming greetings breaking out all around.

Well, Sans certainly seems popular here.

Before you can finish arching your brow at him in question, the motion of the kitchen doors opening up catches your eye. An _incredibly_ well-dressed monster made of pure blue flame moves to man the bar with the quiet confidence of an establishment's owner. You blink, a gentle shiver tripping up your spine that forces a barely audible gasp from your lips. Sans passes you and makes his way to the bar, returning greetings and having short chats with various patrons along the way, including a table full of dogs playing cards.

Realizing you're standing there, gawping, you promptly shut your trap and compose yourself, a light blush heating your cheeks as you head to the bar. Belatedly, you notice that several of the stools are already taken, two of them by Papyrus and Undyne. You take a stool one over from Papyrus, leaving one open for Sans, which he fills moments later. You perceive that Undyne and Papyrus both already have food and drinks in front of them, though they haven't really started digging into either yet.

The flame elemental you have to assume is Grillby himself comes over, snagging a white condiment bottle from beneath the counter and setting it in front of Sans, who immediately tips the nozzle between his teeth and starts squeezing. Ignoring that blatant oddity for the moment, you face the flaming man and swallow anxiously. Good _gods is he hot!_ Okay, so that's both literally and figuratively, but _still!_

He's... well, you _think_ he's looking at you—if the direction he's facing and the aim of the glasses on his face, the nose bridge of which rests on thin air, is any indication. After a moment of careful study, you come to understand he does actually have eyes behind those glasses, though they're certainly not the most apparent feature on his face. With a softly crackling sigh, he tilts his head. His voice is like a whisper of air over a coal bed—a split in the flames over where a mouth should be on his face forming, the molten interior of what must be his actual mouth a bright, pale robin egg blue—as he inquires, "Are you alright, miss?" The split disappears as he concludes his query. _Does he simply create facial features when he feels the need to use them? Are they always there, but hidden?_ There's so many things you don't know about monsters and your ignorance is beginning to do more than just annoy you a bit.

Before you can answer, a snort comes from your right—though, how someone without a nose can snort, you're at a loss to explain—and Sans smirks at the concerned elemental. "looks like she's got the _hots_ for ya, grillbz." Sans snickers at you, his tone teasing,  "just look at those cheeks, they're practically _aflame_." He winks at Grillby and nudges your arm.

Your blush deepens, if the heat crawling up your face is any hint, and you cut a glare toward Sans in sharp reprimand, nearly shoving him off his stool in retaliation.

He only laughs harder and continues drinking whatever's in the bottle the moment he re-seats himself.

You turn back to the proprietor and clear your throat, trying to regain some form of dignity. You offer a sheepish, if pained, smile, then quietly ask, "You wouldn't happen to have a menu, would you?"

He produces one from seemingly nowhere, handing it to you carefully, only releasing it once you take it. "Of course. Please, take your time deciding. Simply let me know when you're ready." He looks to Sans. "The usual?"

Sans nods gently. "sounds good. with cheese this time."

Grillby nods and moves into the kitchen, leaving an odd absence of warmth behind, though the feeling quickly fades. Sans chuckles absently about something as he continues to partake in his bottle, utterly in his own little world. His brother and Undyne seem quite engaged in their own conversation, so you decide to bother Sans, instead.

You nudge him, nodding to the bottle. "What _is_ that, anyway?"

He rights the bottle on the bartop, sliding it over to you. "s'just ranch, see for yourself. you want your own bottle or somethin'?"

You frown at the bottle, then him, in confusion. "Ranch? As in, Ranch dressing? And... you're just drinking it, straight-up?" At his confirming nod, your brows screw up in an incredulous expression. _"Why?"_

He shrugs, taking his bottle back. "it tastes good. what, you don't like it?"

Your expression has mellowed some but still retains the original intent. "Well, yeah, I like it, but I'm not gonna sit here and drink it by itself."

He blinks, donning his own frown. "why not?"

You snort, shaking your head and peering at the mirror behind the bar, decorated with row upon row of colorful liquor bottles, only half of which are familiar, human brands. "Because I like it _on_ things, not by itself. If you prefer it by itself, more power to ya, I guess."

You're ready to drop it, excusing it as a monster, or Sans oddity, but it seems he's not quite done.

"so, you've never had anything you could drink by itself that was meant to be used on something else? ever? that just seems... weird."

You heave a tired sigh and look at him, pondering the answer. Shrugging, you reply, "I suppose. Honey, syrups of various flavors, things like that. But that's all sweet stuff, and you can only have so much of it before you make yourself sick, so I'm not sure it'd qualify."

A grin slowly slides onto his face. "so, y'got a sweet tooth, huh? should take ya out for nice cream after this."

You turn your attention to the menu in your hands, starting to filter through the options. "I've had it before, but I won't say no to that. I'm partial to the 'Crystal Dreamsicle' flavor, personally."

Sans nods approvingly. "good choice; that's one of the better flavors. i like the 'snowdin drift', myself, but I'm biased since paps came up with that one."

"Your brother made one of the Nice Cream flavors?"

Sans shrugs slightly, a hint of that cyan blush returning for just a moment. "nah, he named it; blue made the flavor, but he's just as bad at naming things as king asgore is."

You nod your understanding, finally selecting your drink and meal from the menu and setting it on the counter. It takes mere moments for Grillby to appear in front of you, as if summoned by the lowering of your menu. He peers down at you with acute interest, hands resting easily on his bar. You order your burger with a small side of fries, and decide to try a monster soda you've heard equated to the flavor of Mountain Dew.

The fiery bar owner dips his head in a nod when you finish your order, plucking the menu from the bar and stowing it under his arm as he retreats to the kitchen. The flaring sound of a rising flame is evident only seconds after the doors close behind him. Does he cook the food with his own personal fire? That'd be a sight to see.

You peep over at Sans, nodding toward the kitchen doors with a curious expression pinching your features. "Does he ever put on a show, let people watch him cook? I bet it'd be a hit. Probably drum up some more business."

Sans leans over, a devious smirk on his skull. "y'sure you're not just tryin' to get a _personal_ show?"

You scoff, rolling your eyes. "Not saying I wouldn't watch; I mean, I'm not _blind,_ but that's not what I meant, no. I mean, does he cook the food with... himself?"

Sans shrugs, shaking his head slightly. "dunno, never asked."

Grillby comes back with your drink and Sans' cheese fries, then departs for the kitchen once more. "Well, I can tell you it'd be quite the event if he does. Not many would be able to resist at least coming to check it out. Just a thought."

Sans tips his skull at the kitchen doors. "tell him about it, then. never know, he might agree."

You arch a brow at Sans. "Wouldn't that be a bit presumptuous? I literally just met the guy... actually, we technically haven't met at all, really; I'm just a random new human in his bar."

Just as Sans starts to reply, he's interrupted by Grillby's return. Grillby sets your plate down, then reaches over it, offering his hand to you. When you take it, he begins, "Hello, I am Grillby Immix, retired General of His Grace, our King Asgore's Legion; now the humble proprietor of the establishment you are currently seated in." He lowers his face to your hand, gingerly laying a very warm kiss onto the back of it, then placing his free hand over the kissed spot, as if to seal the gesture into being, while he rights himself. "It is a distinct pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady. Might I learn your name?"

Your eyes are wide, lips parted, cheeks most assuredly ablaze, and throat all but closed by the time he finishes. His rather toasty, but not uncomfortably warm hands continue to cradle yours comfortingly, as you try to regain control of your sense. "I..." you manage, having to clear your throat and swallow your nerves as best you can before you can continue, "I'm ____. ____ ______. It's n-nice to meet you, too."

He's smiling as he nods and gently releases your hands to your care, settling his own on his bar once more. "Now we have properly met. What is it I'm meant to be told about?"

After a stuttering explanation, you find he agrees with your idea. Also, apparently he _does_ cook the food with his own personal fire, which is how it becomes infused with magic. That much is confirmed with the first bite you take of your burger—it's absolutely _divine._ You promptly swear off human burger joints for the rest of your life, much to Sans and—particularly—Grillby's amusement.

Undyne and Papyrus toss in a few ideas for the show, and soon it's being turned into a full-blown festival, involving multiple local businesses and vendors, with Grillby's and Muffet's Bakery catering the ordeal. All in all, it turns out to be a damn fine evening. You promise to return with the Aster brothers soon, also swearing to attend the festival when it comes around. By the time your group leaves, you're suffused with a sense of cheery warmth that lasts far past the bar's exit.

_It fills you with... Love._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❤--[Talks-To-Skeletons (Voidshatter Ask Blog)](https://talks-to-skeletons.tumblr.com/)\--❤
> 
> ❤--[My Book](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00QZ5AI1K)\--❤--[Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/SableWolfe)\--❤--[Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/A2832IP7)\--❤
> 
> ❤--Skype: shannaleia--❤
> 
> ❤ Thanks for reading! If you enjoy the story or this chapter in particular, please feel free to leave a review with your thoughts! ❤  
>  ❤ I love reading comments and reply to all of them. ❤


	7. Friendship Fettuccine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get a few answers, make pasta with some very excitable monsters, and meet an odd man you’re not sure _what_ to think of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, why not have a peek at my new [Undertale Ask Blog](https://talks-to-skeletons.tumblr.com/)? You can talk to the boys, slurp up some Ranch (or condiment of your choice... or not) and have a nice nap. Sound good? Great. Seeya there.  
> ❤️ This chapter edited by my wonderful editor, illusionsfire76. ❤️

It’s strange, you‘d never really expected to have much of anything to do with monsters. Yet here you are, getting texts from three of them; one of which had actually woken you from another of those utterly disturbing dreams you’ve been having lately. The dream hasn’t changed since it began taking over your nights, but each time you have it, you wake tangled in sweat soaked sheets. It’s getting rather tiring, having to change your bed linens so often.

After you strip the bed and drag your sheets to the washroom, you return to check the texts. Carl’s pestering you more insistently; you’ll have to actually call him today. Sans and Undyne have both sent you multiple messages, the main theme of which are trying to get you to come over to the Aster household today for sci-fi and fettuccine. There’s also a text from an unknown number.

 **XXX-XXXX:** *It was a pleasure to meet you, yesterday. I sincerely hope you enjoyed yourself, and hope to see you here again, soon. - Grillby Immix

Oh. Well then. That seems... nice. _Very_ inviting. _Did it just get a touch warm in here?_

You shake yourself, realizing how silly it is for you to be reading into such a polite invitation so scandalously. You wonder how small his human clientèle is that he would send each one a personal invitation back to his pub. Then again, maybe he’s just that nice? Or simply that business savvy? It _is_ a rather clever tactic to drum up repeat customers, after all.

Regardless, you collect yourself and send him an equally polite and warm thank-you message, informing him that you’ll join your friends there at their convenience since you’ve no idea where his business is actually located. Just as you finish saving his number into your contacts, he sends a response with an address and a kind encouragement to come when you feel inclined to, with or without your new friends.

_Huh._

Well, that’s fair enough. You find out that the address puts Grillby’s at about five blocks away from your apartment, just inside the borders of Above Home, the primarily monster-occupied section of Ebott City. While monsters have spread all over the world since they’ve been freed from the barrier, this is still their main hub; the origin point of monsters everywhere. You resolve to take some time soon to explore that part of town more thoroughly.

You bring your phone with you, texting Undyne as you walk to the kitchen.

 **____:** Sounds like fun. Should I shop beforehand and bring ingredients, then?

You send that off and pull up Sans’ texts.

 **Sans:** i know undyne’s gonna bug you today about friendship fettuccine, but i was wondering if maybe you’d wanna watch some of those shows you mentioned?

 **Sans:** i mean you don’t have to obviously.

 **Sans:** just thought it might be somethin’ good to relax with together after, y’know?

 **Sans:** or we can all do something else. your choice; it’s your day really.

You’re about to start typing your response when you get a ping for Undyne’s response.

 **Undyne the Undying:** Nah nerd, we got it covered! Just bring yourself and those cooking skills you bragged about yesterday!

You ponder your reply for only a few seconds, checking your small wine rack before you send off a quick reply.

 **____:** I’ll bring a good chardonnay to drink with it, then. That work?

The answer is nearly instant.

 **Undyne the Undying:** Hell yes! I knew I liked you for a reason.

You snort and turn back to Sans’ anxious-sounding texts, finally firing off your rejoin.

 **____:** No, that’s cool! What do you feel like seeing?

You pour milk on the cereal you’ve tossed into your bowl on autopilot. After snagging a spoon from the dish rack and putting the milk away, you lean up against the counter, slumping against it lazily as you dig into your bowl. You’re half-finished by the time you finally get a response.

 **Sans:** star wars maybe? could watch one movie every time you come over?

 **____:** Great! Yeah I think that’s a good plan; doubt anyone could stay awake long enough to marathon them all tonight. No need to wear us all down to the _bone_ , after all.

 **Sans:** heh. cool. undyne’s freaking out over you bringing booze. pretty sure you’ve made a life-long friend, there. too late, can’t _wine_ about it now.

 **____:** Oh good lord. Well, at least she’s enthusiastic?

 **Sans:** doncha think you’re putting that a bit lightly?

 **____:** Well I didn’t want to be rude. I like that she’s enthusiastic... just hoping it doesn’t end in disaster at some point, that’s all.

 **Sans:** who says it hasn’t already?

 **____:** ...Point. So hey, I’ve got... several questions, actually. Could I uh... call, maybe?

He calls a few seconds later, saving you the trouble.

 _ “sup?” _ You hear the wind blowing gently against his phone’s mic again, as it had for his voice message. You wonder at him not being able to find enough privacy in his own home to make a simple phone call.

“So, a few things. You want them all at once, or one at a time?”

He huffs a laugh and draws a breath before, _“hit me, i can handle ‘em.”_

“Alright.” You start washing up your bowl and spoon as you begin, “So, let’s see. One, you never did explain what you meant by saying you were a soul expert? Care to elaborate? Two, is it a usual business practice of Grillby’s to send personalized text invitations to humans that visit his place, asking them back anytime? Three, am I meeting your dad at your place today, and if so, should I know anything beforehand, or do anything or bring anything different?”

There’s silence for a few seconds.

 _“huh. okay well, one, i’m what’s called a judge.”_ He sighs, then dives skull-first into his explanation. _“my dad and i actually share the job. we’re able to see souls and read their stats without entering an encounter. we’ve actually worked with the human authorities before, catching people who’ve dusted monsters and humans alike. that was back in the early years—we use our talents for the lab environment now. as for my job, my dad and i are currently working on using soul power to charge human mobile tech. phones, tablets, all that jazz. that’s our current cash cow. we also have a few side projects that we work on out of personal scientific curiosity. that answer your first question?”_

You nod, giving your sink’s faucet an impressed look. “Yeah, mostly. I’d love to hear more sometime, but that’ll do for now.”

 _“cool.”_ He seems somewhat reluctant to continue, but does after a bit of deliberation. _“uh, about grillbz... yeah i don’t think that’s his normal m.o., no. i’ve never heard of him doing it, anyway. plus, he gets enough humans in there that he doesn’t need to cater to them so particularly anymore. not sure why he’s taken such a shine to ya, but it sounds like it wouldn’t take much to fan those flames, if... ya know, if ya wanted to.”_

... _Oh._ Well. Shit. “...Huh. Not what I expected to hear, but alright. Didn’t think I’d made that big of an impression.”

Another few moments of silence follow, finally broken by a soft sigh. _“you’ve... well, ya got a good soul, ____. any monster’d have to put real work into dislikin’ ya, with those aspects. most of us’d rather go with the flow and make a new friend than waste time fighting that instinct. not t’say all of us’ll like ya automatically, but most will.”_

Now it’s your turn to make some silence of your own. Eventually, you manage to choke out, “M-my _soul_ is good? How does one have a good soul, exactly? I didn’t think there were any bad aspects? And wait, aspects are actually a thing? I thought there was more research needed on that before it could be confirmed?” At least, that’s what the documentary had said. Then again, the one you watched had been pretty old, so your data was out-of-date.

You can practically hear him shaking his head as he rushes to clarify, _“nah, don’t get me wrong, there aren’t any bad aspects. but there are bad souls. and yeah, aspects are an actual thing, for sure. sometimes a certain combo of aspects come together and form a particular soul, resulting in a person who’s more prone to doing bad things than others would be. you’re the exact opposite: knowledge, gentleness, love. you’ve got a lavender soul. it’s... really beautiful actually, if you don’t mind me saying so. have uh... have you ever seen it?”_

You blink in surprise at the question. This certainly wasn’t the turn you expected this conversation to take. “No, I haven’t. Maybe you could show me sometime,” you offer, leaving the option hanging there without fuss. “Well anyway, three? Sorry, didn’t mean to sidetrack us so hard.”

_ “no worries. dad’s a pushover; you’ll be fine. hell, you’ll probably get along perfectly. he’s got the monster counter to your knowledge aspect: wisdom. don’t think he’s met a knowledge human before. heh, he’ll probably have kittens once he finds out, come to think of it. loves any chance he gets to experience something new.” _

“Okay? That’s good. I think.”

...Isn’t it?

* * * * *

“Undyne, do you want to make it?”

That question is apparently the phrase of the day, seeing as you’ve asked it six times in the past three minutes alone.

“No! I just... you’re not stirring hard enough!” she insists, just as she already has... twice. It’s a miracle the house hasn’t caught fire, but thankfully the phrase of the day has held her back, despite her repeated efforts. Even Papyrus has tried to butt in a few times, but he was far easier to rebuff than Undyne, at least.

You’d never realized before now that fettuccine alfredo could be such a volatile meal to prepare!

Thankfully, the ordeal is nearly over. Everyone still has all their digits and there’s only a few small scorch marks on the stove hood.

And a splatter or three on the walls.

 ...Maybe a noodle on the ceiling that hasn’t come back down yet, but who’s counting?!

 * * * * *

“Holy shit, this is _so good!”_

You smile at Undyne’s enthusiastic assessment of your cooking, which manages to mostly blot out Papyrus’ less than beaming acquiescence to a ‘tolerable culinary experience’. Considering his usual treatment of you, you figure that’s the closest to a compliment you’re ever going to get from him. That’s alright, though; you can’t please everyone, and there are some who just don’t _want_ to be pleased.

Sans grunts his avid agreement with Undyne through a mouthful of pasta and baked potato, tipping his wine glass toward you in salutation before he tips it back toward himself for a long drink.

Well, at least your cooking is a hit. Mostly.

The feeling of warmth from a family sitting down and enjoying a home-cooked meal...

_...it fills you with Love._

* * * * *

You’re helping Undyne with the dishes while Sans sets up the movie in the living room. You’re not really sure where Papster went, but he’d been quite disgruntled as he’d left, complaining bitterly over the snark you’d leveled at him a few times over dinner, in retaliation for him snipping at Sans. If you can’t defend him directly, you’ll do it indirectly.

You’re slowly learning what buttons to push to get Papyrus to shut right up. It’s rather more amusing than you would’ve thought to watch a sharp, grumpy skeleton gaping at you like a fish in utter outrage. Even Undyne got a kick out of it several times. Sans mostly stared at you with a fearful kind of wonder, like someone watching a train wreck happening, unable to look away for their morbid fascination.

Once the last plate is in the drainer, you dry your hands and head for the living room, more than ready to laze about for a couple of hours—only to be waylaid by the startling commotion of the front door abruptly slamming open. You peek around the corner, and find yourself coming face to face with... well, you’re not exactly sure who... or even _what_ kind of monster that is.

* * * * *

Coming home early had been an impromptu event, triggered by a randomly sparked idea that had in turn led to a momentary ray of brilliance for which he knew he needed the home lab.

He had not, however, been prepared for the new soul in his foyer.

He peers down at the owner of said soul—a seemingly quiet creature—just as she stares right back up at him. He blinks his sockets, then turns to his son, lifting one of his many summoned hands from where it had been absently hovering to point directly down at the top of the stranger's head, poking it insistently and inquisitively. “Who is this? Why do I not know her? Why is she in our house? Sans! Explain this to me! Why have I no memory of this individual?!”

Papyrus sighs heavily as he trundles down the stairs, likely from his room, rolling his eyelights as he responds with his inside voice before Sans can, “She's Sans' _precious date mate_.” His son spits the words as if he finds them despicable.  “Feel free to ignore her—I do.”

“DATE MATE?!“ A second summoned hand cups the human's jaw, lifting her face for his scrutinizing momentary inspection, despite her obvious alarm. “Why was I not informed? Sans!” He snaps his attention back to his shorter son. “Why have you said nothing of this?”

“because she's _not_ my girlfriend, pops.” Sans sighs tiredly, gesturing offhandedly to his brother.  “paps and undyne've been teasing us with that since yesterday, but it's no more true now than it was when they started it.”

Gaster looks back to the human, sockets narrowing. “Then who is she? Her soul is... _most_ curious.” He doesn't bother looking away from her soul, studying the sight of it floating within the human's chest with open fascination.

“She's a new friend, Doc,” Undyne finally explains, “Came over to make friendship fettuccine today, actually. There's still some left if you want.”

He tears his eyelights from the soul to ogle Undyne curiously. “Has everyone already had their fill?”

The guard Captain shrugs, nodding. “Sure. I just finished putting the leftovers up; have at it.”

Gaster hums thoughtfully, returning his attention to the new soul-friend. Suddenly, he realizes how abominably rude he’s been and instantly releases her, gingerly extending his true right hand. He takes a step back, bowing gently to bring himself socket to eye with this beautiful new soul’s owner. “My sincerest and deepest apologies, I’m afraid I’ve utterly forgotten my manners. How uncouth. Please, allow me to introduce myself. I am Doctor Wing Ding Aster, Royal Scientist to His Highness our King Asgore. I’m afraid I’m far more accustomed to interacting with lab samples than people at this point, but that is a poor excuse indeed, yes.” He grimaces apologetically, then proffers a small smile, tilting his head inquiringly. “Perhaps you would allow me to hear your name, Miss..?”

He watches carefully as she blinks, a soft red color tinting the skin over her zygomatic arches. Belatedly, she looks down and links her hand with his, swallowing softly as she returns her gaze to his. “____. M-my name’s ____ _____, Doctor Aster. Pleased to m-meet you. You’re S-sans and Pap’s father?”

His mouth stretches in a proud smile at her query. “Indeed I am. You may call me Gaster, if you like. Most do.”

“Gaster.” She seems to be testing the nickname out, rolling it around on her tongue and tasting it delicately. Finally, she nods and smiles at him tentatively. “It’s good to meet you, Gaster.”

“Likewise, lovely heart. Likewise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❤--[Talks-To-Skeletons (Voidshatter Ask Blog)](https://talks-to-skeletons.tumblr.com/)\--❤
> 
> ❤--[My Book](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00QZ5AI1K)\--❤--[Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/SableWolfe)\--❤--[Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/A2832IP7)\--❤
> 
> ❤--Skype: shannaleia--❤
> 
> ❤ Thanks for reading! If you enjoy the story or this chapter in particular, please feel free to leave a review with your thoughts! ❤  
>  ❤ I love reading comments and reply to all of them. ❤


	8. Skeleton Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You realize hangups are bad and you should stop hanging onto them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short. I'm sorry. Yes, I also know I'm 'late'. Honestly, I give up on that Monday update thing. It was just stressing me out, and I just took it down so it'll stop stressing me out more. I'll probably update a heck of a lot more frequently without a stupid deadline hanging over my head. It's dumb, I know. That's just how my horrible brain works. Sorry guys.
> 
> Know what isn't horrible? My [Voidshatter/Undertale Ask Blog.](https://talks-to-skeletons.tumblr.com/) (There's [Fan](https://talks-to-skeletons.tumblr.com/post/163335956339/shy-shoots-spyke-an-almost-shameless-grin-if-it) [art](https://talks-to-skeletons.tumblr.com/post/163685855269/hey-sanster-what-happens-if-a-soulmate-dies) [there](https://talks-to-skeletons.tumblr.com/post/163707171154/tries-to-draw-my-monster-sona-somehow-spits), [guys!](https://talks-to-skeletons.tumblr.com/post/163593122354/psssst-papster-whats-your-fav-thing-about-your) Go look!)  
> This chapter is unedited. All mistakes are mine and I claim them proudly.

Meeting Sans and Pap's father is... an experience.

On the one hand, he's charming, smooth and calculating, but on the other, he's an absolute fucking _mess._

He's ridiculously tall—he's got at _least_ a head and a half on you—so much so that you feel like you  should be bending backward to look up at him, but he _always_ goes the extra mile to lower himself to something closer to your level, in a way that surprisingly never feels condescending or off-putting. He trips over the air , sometimes stares off into middle-space, getting lost in thought while in the middle of a conversation, and he speaks on the application of magic in scientific principles that go right over your head. You can see where Papyrus got his excitability; where Sans got his wit.

In short, he's an adorable, tall, eccentric _dork_. It's quite entertaining, if a touch overwhelming, at first. He has very little sense of personal space, though you get the sense that it's not because he's being consciously rude, it's just that he doesn't have a concept of his _own_ personal space. To make matters even more strange, he only ever invades that space (At least, since your initial meeting) with those summoned hands of his: pointing, gesturing, waving and signaling rapidly in what you have to assume is a sign language of some sort. You have no idea, as you've never learned any of the signing languages.

Speaking of languages, you're not entirely sure why he's signing, when he seems to be able to hear perfectly well. He also speaks perfect, clearly enunciated English. Though, if you're honest, his voice itself ain't a half bad topper to the whole package. The soft Lancashire accent with his middle-range tones creates a soothing if fervid atmosphere that surrounds him in an aura of enthusiastic harmony.

Then there's the fact that you're not... _really_ convinced he's an actual skeleton. He has that same alabaster 'skin' that Paps and Sans do, but his facial structure is so different from theirs (Or that of any skeleton you've ever seen, for that matter), that he's nearly an entirely different species. If it weren't for the similar coloring and the curiously matching splits in all their skulls and holes in their hands—yes, Paps has those holes too. You discovered that when he finally took his gloves off to make his attempt at 'fixing' your cooking—you would absolutely assume he was a completely different monster type.

All in all, it's a bit surreal, but... actually rather enjoyable.

You've both made your way into the kitchen as you relay the grand tale of the epic battle of wills that occurred while you made the Friendship Fettuccine, much to his amusement. You gesture off-handedly to the bits of pasta still clinging to the ceiling for dear life. "I'm afraid I couldn't hope to contain Pap or Undyne's enthusiasm completely, no matter what I tried."

Gaster looks up, expression falling, breath sighing at the sight. His sigh hitches in his non-existent (Or possibly it _does_ exist  if what Undyne told you about monster anatomy is true—what a thought that is!) throat as one of the noodles gives up its eternal struggle, only to suicidally leap into the inky depths of Gaster's left eye socket. Gaster freezes, lips slightly parted in shock. After a moment, he looks back down at you with a decidedly discomforted expression. His voice is a pinched, choked off thing, his duress beyond evident when he finally speaks, "Please, excuse me."

He stumbles over the edge of the carpeting after hastily turning to make his exit, but doesn't slow his frantic escape, nearly trodding on his coat and ripping it in his haste; leaving you alone in the kitchen.

You stand there, gaping after him for a few seconds, then snap out of it and head into the living room, where everyone else has gathered for the movie. Undyne and Paps are in the midst of a passionately loud debate, so you look instead to Sans, hooking your thumb over your shoulder. "Uh, your dad just had a noodle fall from the ceiling into his eye socket... is um... he gonna be okay? He seemed a little... stressed about it."

Sans snorts, then contains his mirth with a rueful grimace. "yeah he'll be fine in a bit, he's just gotta go wash his skull out. never fun to get somethin' in your sockets." He shudders, emphasizing his point. "he'll be back out in fifteen or so. wanna start the movie while we wait?"

You deliberate for a second. "Has he seen it already? Or is he not gonna watch it?"

He shrugs. "dunno. but he's seen 'em all before so it's cool."

You nod acceptingly and take a seat next to him on the couch; the only spot left aside from the armchair you're assuming is Gaster's. "Alright, let's start it then."

* * * * *

The movie is... well, it's _The Phantom Menace_. No more need be said on that front, but you're still quite entertained by the monsters around you reacting to what's happening on the screen.  Undyne and Papster toss popcorn and jeer at the TV every time Jar-Jar Binks says 'mesah' or 'wesah'. Sans and Gaster—who has long since emerged from the bathroom and joined you all—are arguing the merits and downfalls of midichlorians being _force_ fully injected into the Star Wars lore.

Force puns are scattering everywhere, even on Papster's end of the couch. Apparently, he eases up a lot when both his dad and best friend are present—maybe he feels more comforted when he has his whole 'family' together, as it were? You're not entirely sure, but...

_...you can feel the comforting emotional atmosphere of the room warming your soul with Gentleness._

* * * * *

The movie's nearly over and you've offered to take the popcorn bowls and empty soda cans into the kitchen. They try to refuse since you're a guest, but you insist, and they relent... if still a bit guiltily. Undyne starts shouting at the screen as you leave the room, causing a chuckle to rise in your throat as you shake your head and cart your load to your destination. Soft, light footsteps behind you alert you to your company, a glance over your shoulder revealing Sans trailing a few feet behind you, expression fondly pensive. After you set your charge in the sink and start rinsing out the cans for the recycling, you peek back at him and speak up. "Everything alright?"

He startles slightly, eyelights snapping to meet your eyes before he quickly nods his head, his smile turning less pensive and more pleased. "yeah, everything's fine; great, actually. i just... well, i wanted to thank you, really."

A light frown creases your brow. "What for?"

He nods back toward the living room, the sound of laughter emanating from within. "this. we don't all get together like this very often, so it's nice when we do... you made it possible, today." He can barely keep his eyes trained even near you, preferring to shift his view around the room bashfully instead. "so just..." he shrugs, cheeks tinged in soft cyan, "thanks."

You cut the water off, drying your hands and turning, regarding him for a moment, before you make your decision.

It's time. You've got to get over this because you kinda _really_ do want  to be friends with these wonderful dorks, and this damned hangup—this stupid, _irrational_ fear of yours—is doing _nothing_ but getting in the way.

So, you steel yourself with a deep breath, take the needed steps forward, and firmly, but gently wrap your arms around your skeleton friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❤--[Talks-To-Skeletons (Voidshatter Ask Blog)](https://talks-to-skeletons.tumblr.com/)\--❤
> 
> ❤--[My Book](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00QZ5AI1K)\--❤--[Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/SableWolfe)\--❤--[Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/A2832IP7)\--❤
> 
> ❤--Skype: shannaleia--❤
> 
> ❤ Thanks for reading! If you enjoy the story or this chapter in particular, please feel free to leave a review with your thoughts! ❤  
>  ❤ I love reading comments and reply to all of them. ❤


	9. The Truth The History Books Left Out...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What has history hidden?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one. 
> 
> You know what isn't short? My [Voidshatter Monster Ask Blog](https://talks-to-skeletons.tumblr.com), where monsters from multiple AU's come together in this one and complain about having organs now. Come commiserate with them.  
> ❤️ This chapter edited by my wonderful editor, illusionsfire76. ❤️

_Warm._

She’s so, _so warm_ and _soft,_ her breath fanning over his vertebrae a touch frantically and almost tickling him with the sensation. He revels in the feeling for a fraction of a second too long before he realizes she’s expecting him to return the affection. When he does—his hard, thin arms wrapping around her soft, giving flesh—he very nearly _moans._ It’s not that it’s an inherently sexual experience, by any means, it’s just... he hasn’t been touched by anyone but his father with such soothing tenderness in so long, he’s nearly forgotten what it felt like.

He doesn’t want to let go.

He can feel her life’s pulse just beneath her skin, the innate magic of life throbbing and hemorrhaging from her like a bad wound, just like it does for all humans. But it’s underneath all that cacophony that his attention directs itself, sharpening to pin-point focus as he lifts the layer of her life to peer below to the true magic. _Her_ magic. Beneath that flood of determination to live, the melody of her soul sings to his in the blissful unity of a harmony she’s sung to him from the moment they met. The trouble is, he’s not the only one her soul sings to. And her damned soul’s been doing this and more, all without her realizing any of it.

There’s no way he can tell her. No monster that felt that inexorable pull toward her would say so, not without the firm establishment of an unshakable relationship to build something more from. It’s all far too iffy, this business of soulmates; much too risky to rush into things. Better to let the pieces fall as they may than get one’s hopes up. After all, she could choose any one of her other available options—or even none of them... and where would that leave him, if he’s invested too much of himself into it?

Best to leave it lay.

Maybe between him and his pops, they can train her to understand her soul; possibly even get her to start recognizing the song she sings, even if she won’t be able to hear their songs just yet, or feel their pull on her until... well. Best not to worry about then, for now.

“Oh. Excuse me.”

He looks up, mind emerging from the thick forest of its ponderings to see his dad bracing himself gently against the archway into the kitchen, already turning to leave the room. “no, pops, s’ok.” He carefully, _regretfully_ extricates himself from ____’s limbs, gesturing to her indicatively. “i was just thankin’ ____ for gettin’ us all together today. you’re not interruptin’ anything.”

 _Much as he might wish he was_ —no, _no,_ stop that. _Stop._ Too much, too soon.

His father turns back, concerned expression lifting somewhat in realization. “Ah. Well then,” he looks to ____, “I hope you will also allow me to extend my gratitude. Moments such as these are indeed rare; worthy of celebration, in this family. You have my thanks for your contributions to it.” He bows just slightly at the waist, one spindly hand pressing over his sternum to convey his sincerity—the significance of the old gesture probably lost on ____.

She smirks lightly, glancing over at Sans, then back at his father, the smirk growing as she takes the three steps to his pops and wraps her arms around him, his arms pinned to his sides by hers. The utterly gobsmacked, flushed look on his dad’s face is the best reaction he’s seen from him in a long time. She chuckles and shakes her head as she releases his dad, glancing between the two with a barely-there peach flush coloring her cheeks.

“You’re welcome. I’m glad I was able to help, even if it was by accident.” Her smile broadens for a just a moment, falling somewhat somber as she turns to leave the room.

Sans and his dad both watch as ____ exits, his pops once again bracing himself on the archway, distals pricking into the wood. "She has no idea what she is to us, does she?"

Sans sighs and shakes his head. "doesn't seem like it, no. s'not just us, either; grillbz harmonizes too. every monster in the room heard it, yesterday."

"Mmm, yes." His father nods pensively. "It would be rather loud, strong as he is. His soul must've been performing an entire opera on its own, considering how long he's been actively searching. I'm sure it was a relief."

Sans grimaces. “doubt it. he heard mine singin’ too. gotta wonder how many she’s gonna harmonize with, at this rate.”

Gaster sighs and leans against the arch, giving up his death grip on it. “She has Love as her primary, Sans. It’s no surprise that she could potentially sing with an entire choir without missing a note. She is so utterly ignorant of the effect she has... perhaps... we should teach her how to hear it? There are few better qualified, after all.”

Sans bites his lip thoughtfully, nodding once. “i was thinkin’ that exact thing before you came in, actually. might be good to bring tori and the kids in on it; they’re usually a little better with the layman’s explanations.”

His father nods his agreement, loosely crossing his arms and absently rubbing his left humerus with his right hand. “It’s a good plan, especially for a first attempt. Shall I contact the Queen and her brood, then?”

The shorter skeleton snaps his attention to his dad. “y’wanna do it _now?_ seems a little rushed, don’t it? i mean, you just met her. stars, _i_ just met her, what, two days ago? three?” He groans, grinding the heel of his hand into his browbone.  “can’t believe all this shit happened in the space of a few _days._ this is insane, pops. is there even a book to consult about this? i don’t remember seein’ a manual on how to deal with human soulmates on the undernet library. how is that even a thing? i don’t get it.” He shakes his head, both to clear it and to further indicate his confusion.  “i can’t sleep worth a damn these past few days and nothin’ about this makes sense. d’you remember anything about this from back before the barrier?”

Gaster stares down the hall, at the last place he’d seen ____ before she turned the corner into the living room. “Yes.”

Sans waits for a time, hoping his dad will elaborate, given a few minutes. When he doesn’t, Sans pipes up, “well?”

His pops startles, his attention flitting to his son, then back to his new favorite spot to stare at. “There were many humans bonded to boss monsters, before our banishment. All are now dead, along with their mates.” He looks back to his son again, expression tense, mouth a barely visible line, for how tightly his lips are pressed together. “They all died, the moment the barrier rose. It cut their bonds, as if one partner had died. That is the story we do not tell about the barrier, son. That is part of the secret we carry in our bones. All of the human mages that were forced to create the barrier died that day. As did all human mages.”

Gaster takes a deep breath, releasing it slowly.

“As did all of their monster mates.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❤--[Talks-To-Skeletons (Voidshatter Ask Blog)](https://talks-to-skeletons.tumblr.com/)\--❤
> 
> ❤--[My Book](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00QZ5AI1K)\--❤--[Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/SableWolfe)\--❤--[Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/A2832IP7)\--❤
> 
> ❤--Skype: shannaleia--❤
> 
> ❤ Thanks for reading! If you enjoy the story or this chapter in particular, please feel free to leave a review with your thoughts! ❤  
>  ❤ I love reading comments and reply to all of them. ❤


	10. Best Laid Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans within plans...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, look, chapter 10. Cool.  
> The absolutely fucking amazing [skelesass](http://skelesass.tumblr.com/) drew [Dadster](http://skelesass.tumblr.com/post/164279127340/commission-for-the-lovely-author-of-sin-and-their) for me.  
> Go screech at her about how amazingly epic she is and how awesome her Gasters in general are.  
> And hey, now you know what Wing Ding Aster looks like, eh? He's a hot skeledad, amirite? I am. I'm just so proud of him.  
> -gets overly emotional about hot dads-  
> You know what doesn't get overly emotional about hot dads? [My Voidshatter Ask Blog](https://talks-to-skeletons.tumblr.com/). You could go lurk on it, maybe even ask someone a question, if you wanted to.  
> Oh yeah, there's an 'official' wiki for this AU now. It's [here](http://undertale-au.wikia.com/wiki/Voidshatter).  
> Here, have a chapter. I love you all. ♥  
>  **♥ This chapter is completely unedited. Any mistakes are mine and I claim them somewhat proudly. Ish. ♥**

**Undyne the Undying:** WAKE UP, NERD!

 **Undyne the Undying:** Seriously we're outside waiting; you comin' out?

 **Undyne the Undying:** ...

 **Undyne the Undying:** Hey WEENIE, you okay in there? :(

"Shit. Papyrus, did you call her before we came or not?" Undyne cocks her head, one hand on her hip, the other holding her phone up in indication as she peers over at her best friend and second-in-command. It's been several weeks since she'd first met you, and while you haven't missed a single day of working out since you two met, you're usually quite a bit more punctual than this.

"OF COURSE NOT!" He seems insulted by the very notion. "WHY WOULD _I_ CONTACT THE HUMAN? SHE IS _YOUR_ PROT **É** GÉ, AND MY WRETCHED BROTHER'S ASSOCIATE, NOT MINE! SUCH A TASK IS UTTERLY BENEATH THE MIGHTY PAPYRUS!" A great 'harrumph' follows, complete with a crossing of bony arms over his ribs and pointing his nasal cavity haughtily to the clouds. "SHE WILL NOT BE WORTHY OF MY CONSIDERATION UNTIL SHE PROVES HERSELF CAPABLE OF MAKING A FETTUCCINE DISH OF SUFFICIENT CALIBER. UNTIL THEN, SHE IS—"

"You know, the entire complex can hear you deride my qualifications as a person." You finally round the corner, a wry smirk gracing your features; eyes focusing on Papyrus as your smile turns calculating. "I know you feel passionately about me, Papyrus, but is it really necessary for literally everyone to know about us? It's just a bit much, don't you think?"

An outraged shriek is the only response which Papyrus seems capable of for several long moments.

Undyne, on the other hand, is doing her best not to double over with the guffaws that have suddenly overtaken her.

Papyrus belatedly recovers from his indignation, only to glare down at you from his significant height advantage over you, leaning into the action in an intimidation tactic. He lowers his voice to a more private volume, though literally anybody passing even _relatively_ nearby would still be able to hear him. Undyne is still snickering too hard to be of any use in informing him of his miscalculation, and you are quite content to let him stew in his delusion of concealment.  "How DARE you insinuate such a scandalous falsehood! I will have you know that there are a _very_ scarce few whom I would feel anything approaching _passion_ for, human. And NONE of them are YOU."

You feign a wounded countenance, hand clasping over your sternum dramatically as your jaw drops in shock. "But Papyrus! What of our great love affair?! How will I ever recover from this slight?" You look to Undyne, the glint of mischief in your eye. "Undyne, save me; Papyrus has defamed and destroyed me!" You press the back of your hand to your brow, affecting a swoon. "I do declare, I am forever lost."

Papyrus summarily tosses his hands up and walks away, as you drop the act and dissolve into giggles with Undyne.

" _STARS_ , ____!" she manages, after some significant recovery time, "You _wrecked_ him! Fuck, that was perfect." She grins viciously, slapping you on the back with a bit more force than seems strictly healthy. "C'mon punk, let's go run!"

Running with your monster friends has become a regular part of your day, as has being around them, in general. Monsters do seem to be much more invested in spending time with their friends than humans are, on average, but you find that you don't mind it, for the most part.

You are starting to miss your own time alone, however. You know you're going to need to get some time to yourself soon, before you completely burn out. Great as your new friends are, and as oddly easy to deal with for long periods as they may be, you are still an introvert and you still have the needs of one... which include alone time.

Fortunately, they understand your need. Mostly.

You'd met the short, rotund drake that is Undyne's wife a week ago, finally discovering the entire reason they got what your social anxiety and introverted ways meant. The pale, green-scaled woman is even worse off than you are; though she has bursts of excited brilliance where she loses her stuttering entirely and really sounds quite a bit like Gaster... for all of about two minutes. Until she has to take a breath, anyway. Then she gets all flustered and nervous again, blushing forest green and stammering over her own thoughts.

Still, the experience had endeared you to her greatly, especially once she realized you wouldn't judge her for her shyness or her jitters, since you shared them... if to a lesser extent. You'd even found she enjoyed a few of the anime's you used to watch when you were in your teens still, and though you hadn't really paid much attention to anime in years, she'd managed to kindle your interest in some of the newer ones for you.

You've been spending a lot of time at the Aster residence as well, despite Pap's objections. Sans and Gaster both seem to enjoy your company quite a bit, though Sans oddly takes your presence as an opportunity to nap more and more lately, which you found rather odd, at first. His father's explanation that Sans hasn't had much luck sleeping as of late only partly mollifies you. While you're happy he feels comfortable enough to sleep around you, it still greatly hampers the time he actually spends with you... while _conscious,_ anyway.

At least he stays awake when you all go out; which you do, _quite_ frequently. The movies, Grillby's, the mall, a concert or two, even a surprisingly enjoyable opera—at Gaster and Pap's insistence—have left your schedule jam-packed for the past few weeks. Frankly, you're due for a break.

After your run is over, you gently tug on Undyne's sleeve to get her attention. She looks to you, her fins pivoting and honing in on you. "Sup, weenie?"

You smirk, starting into your stretches as she follows suit with her own versions. "Remember that thing we talked about with Alphys? The uh... me needing time alone sometimes thing?"

She nods slowly, though she looks a bit confused. "Yeah, why you askin?"

"I'm gonna need to take that time here soon—probably this upcoming week. We're doing Grillby's tonight, right?"

Undyne nods again, more enthusiastically this time. "That's the plan. You gonna let everyone know then?"

You smirk. "That's the plan."

* * * * *

Grillby is absolutely beside himself.

 _Finally_ , after thousands of years spent alone, he's resonated with someone. He'd begun to believe the rule of soulmates was false, despite having witnessed it in action more times that he cares to count. It just... hadn't happened to _him._

He'd thought he would always be alone. Frankly, it'd made him complacent.

Not that he'd ever do any less than a stellar job running his business—no, that was never in danger of becoming a reality—but now? Now, he polishes the bar to a shine that it didn't even have when it was brand new. Now, he spends time in conversation with her; in person, over the phone, even in text, trying to come up with new dishes to serve her and his other customers. She's become his personal taster; her surprisingly astute observations making his flames flare so brightly and so high with pleasure he's nearly caught the ceiling on fire _six times._

He feels young again, after centuries of simply existing through each day, content with making his customers his priority, happy enough with his lot in life to be satisfied with what he had. Now he does everything he can to coax her near to him, even if she brings Sans with her... even if he has to listen to the second perfect song the other monster's presence draws from her.

He knew the moment he met her and realized who she was to him that he wouldn't be the only one to hear her siren call. He knows the risks; he knows she could pick any of them, or none. He knows it's a game of subtlety, a house of cards that can collapse at any moment, from the slightest influence.

He also knows that of the three monsters who have sung on key with her, not a single one of them is actually... well, _subtle._

If it's already going to be an unmitigated disaster, perhaps the goal is to be the most appealing disaster?

' _Well,'_ he considers, arching a brow as he polishes his already gleaming bar in preparation for opening in an hour, knowing she will attend tonight, _'it's not the worst plan I've had.'_

* * * * *

He's not certain what to make of being invited to go to Grillby's along with the usual group that seems to flutter about ____. It's an unusual occurrence.

It isn't that he's never frequented his fiery friend's establishment, it's just that usually, he interacts with her at home, or in the relative privacy that comes from attending events that afford him things like private boxes.

Gaster studies the soul before him carefully, marking down the cracks, the missing shards, the swirls and shadows of colored smoke within its glass-like surface.

Not that he's ever anything less than a gentleman with her, by any means, or that he's incapable of behaving as he should.

It's just...

He leans in, adjusting his glasses and releasing a small huff as he squints at the tiny lavender speck that acts as a minuscule anchor, a rock amongst the tempest of his soul, eying it with careful study.

Having spent his due time in The Spine of The Universe, having listened to the song of the void for twelve years... well, he is quite sensitive to such notes, no matter their source. And it is difficult enough, listening to her harmonizing with he and his son all at once. He cannot imagine the cacophony that will resound from combining the songs of her and all three of her—undeniably powerful—suitors.

He tugs the deep violet heart from where it hovers in front of him and directs it back into his chest, hiding the soul stain on his sternum with the turtleneck he lowers down over his trunk. He makes a note to check Sans in a moment and then Grillby's soul for the speck later, in private.

Gaster dons his waistcoat and coat in silence, the silk liner of his greatcoat sliding easily over the sleeves of his sweater.

The entire ordeal will be utterly distracting and could quite possibly be physically painful for him.

But, he will endure it with grace.

It is, after all, what's he's best at.

What he was... made for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❤--[Talks-To-Skeletons (Voidshatter Ask Blog)](https://talks-to-skeletons.tumblr.com/)\--❤
> 
> ❤--[My Book](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00QZ5AI1K)\--❤--[Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/SableWolfe)\--❤--[Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/A2832IP7)\--❤
> 
> ❤--Skype: shannaleia--❤
> 
> ❤ Thanks for reading! If you enjoy the story or this chapter in particular, please feel free to leave a review with your thoughts! ❤  
>  ❤ I love reading comments and reply to all of them. ❤


	11. That Age-Old Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You realize somethin' ain't quite right here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Know what _is_ right? [The Voidshatter Ask Blog](https://talks-to-skeletons.tumblr.com/).

There's a... sound.

You sigh, frowning as you rub a spot just over your sternum that's been throbbing for weeks now, getting worse and worse as time goes on. It's not painful so far, just... strange. Discomforting and unsettling. Almost like the fluttering of nervousness in your stomach, but it's not that, and it's definitely not in your stomach.

You're not stupid. You might be human and dead to magic, but you know you have a soul and you know where it likes to live, even if you've never seen it.

Even if your friend and his father have seen it long before you ever will. Even if a skeleton knew its color and called it beautiful before you knew it was.

Your soul is throbbing, for some reason that nobody's explained or seemed to notice. Except you.

And now, there's a sound. A... a humming. You're not sure what it means or why your soul would be humming, but you can't ignore it now that you've noticed it.

How you're supposed to sit through explaining that you need time alone when your _soul_ is _humming,_ you can't begin to fathom. But it has to be done.

You turn the water off and let what remains sluice off of you as it will while you stand, one hand braced against the shower wall, the other clutched to your chest. You wish you could draw your soul out, even for a moment, just to get a look at it and maybe somehow come to an understanding of why it's acting like this. It's the first time you've ever felt or heard evidence of your soul existing and it's the most distracting thing you've ever experienced. You grimace, shaking your head sharply, droplets slinging off your hair against the shower wall, to drip down and join their brethren down the drain.

_Why won't it shut up?!_

The humming... no, it's more of a... chime? Maybe? Almost a song, but none you've ever heard the likes of, and considering how intrinsic music of all types are to your life and your creativity, that's really saying something. Whatever it is, it's... getting louder.

You make haste as you get out of the shower and rush through drying off, shoving your clothes on haphazardly as you make your way to the kitchen and your phone. It's past time to seek outside help. But who? Which one? Would either of the soul experts you know truly be any less awkward to talk to about this than the other?

Wait, why should it be awkward? It's just your soul, right? They have souls, too! It shouldn't be awkward at all. At least, Sans never seemed overly awkward about it... right? Isn't Gaster like, extremely old? Pre-barrier old? If either of them would know what to tell you, it'd be him, right? Yeah! He's probably got lots of experience with singing... throbbing... souls. Yeuch. Yeah, this is probably gonna be awkward, no matter how ya slice it.

Fuck it.

You hit the text app on your phone—knowing there's no way you could deal with this in a live phone conversation—and bring up the rather small text history you have with Gaster. But... wait. No, stop, hold on. What if he'd need to actually draw your soul out, or at least actually look at it with his Judge abilities or whatever, to find out what's wrong with it? Wouldn't it be better to do this in person?

You rub your temple with a free hand, sighing as you move to and sink down onto your couch defeatedly. You decide to send him a text, anyway.

 **____:** Heya. When I get there, I need to talk to you and maybe Sans too, in private, if that's okay? I've got um... soul questions?

You send it before you can dither over the decision; watching as it goes from sending, to sent, to seen in the span of mere seconds. Either Gaster keeps his phone very close, or he already had it open to the text app. There's a response which seems quicker than even the youngest texter you know of would be capable of sending off.

 **Gast:** Of course. Would you prefer my son, me, or both? Souls are delicate matters, after all; I wouldn't wish you to be uncomfortable with your company during such a vulnerable discussion.

You frown slightly, giving his question some thought before you answer.

 **____:** Both, I think? Think of it as like... an official er... Judge... checkup, I guess? I mean, you're both Doctors, right? I guess I'm just looking for some professional opinions.

His reply is definitely faster than any human could manage, appearing nearly instantly, as if he'd already had it typed.

 **Gast:** Absolutely, my dear, I understand. We'll be happy to help, naturally. Would you prefer to have this discussion when you first arrive, or just before we leave?

 **____:** When I get there, I think. Wouldn't want to hold anybody up.

 **Gast:** Very well. Can I ask... my dear, is something the matter? You seem a bit... troubled.

Shit, were you that obvious? Well, crap. Nothing for it, then. You can't lie to these monsters without feeling like a horrible human being, so out with it, it is.

 **____:** Damn. I was obvious, huh? I uh... this question I have about souls, it's more of a... ah, hell. Can I call you? Are you alone?

 **Gast:** Of course, and I can be—one moment.

Your phone rings, literally a moment later. It's him.

"Hello?"

 _"Hello, lovely heart. Ah, but I suppose it is that which you wish to discuss, is it not? Tell me, how may I help you, my dear?"_ The odd, utter silence at the other end of the line when he quiets is almost... draining.

"Uh..." you start, intelligently, "well, I'm not sure if you can..." you sigh in frustration, then put him on speakerphone, holding the phone closer to your chest. "I'm probably just going crazy, but... can you hear that?"

There's a long pause before he replies. _"...I can hear you breathing softly. I hear... a fan, nearby. I cannot imagine these are what you mean, however. What is this about, my dear?"_

You sigh and take him off speakerphone, bringing the phone back to your ear. "No, air currents are definitely not what I'm trying to convey here. There's a... okay, for the past few weeks there's been a weird... pulsing, or throbbing, and oh, god, that sounds terrible." You huff and shake your head sharply to clear it. "Anyway, I think... I think my soul is throbbing and uh... singing? It's... _really_ distracting."

 _"It... oh."_ Just before you feel like the silence is going to devour your soul, he speaks again, shortly. _"Oh, my."_

You give your table a 'yeah, and?' look, gesturing to it like it's going to continue for him. It doesn't, thankfully. But neither does he, less thankfully. The silence is truly bothering you by the time you finally break it yourself. "What is it, Gast? Is it something bad?"

Despite what seems like his stunned state, he answers you quickly. _"No, lovely heart, it's nothing bad. I'm afraid the harmony will only become louder as time goes on, however. I was not aware you would ever experience such a thing without a monster's direct intervention. How strange. Perhaps it is to do with the number. Hmm. Perhaps."_ He sounds quite like he's in his own little world now, utterly forgetting about the whole phone call with you on the other end of the line situation.

"Uh, Gast?"

 _"Hmm? Oh, yes, apologies, my dear. I'm afraid I am..."_ he sighs, _"ill-equipped to answer your question, especially without further study. I believe the time has come for you to meet someone I've been meaning to introduce you to for a while, now. She would be much better at explaining this than I would."_

You blink at your table in confusion. "Oh...kay? Why would this person be any better at explaining things than you are, Gast? I've never had trouble understanding your explanations... even if you lose me with some of the more complex science."

You hear a soft laugh from his end, which, considering how infrequently he laughs, is quite the thing to witness. _"I'm happy to know you think so highly of my abilities, but I assure you, this person would be better suited to explain... absolutely everything to you. It's... yes. It's time. Past time, even."_

_"You will meet our Royal Family, tonight."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❤--[Talks-To-Skeletons (Voidshatter Ask Blog)](https://talks-to-skeletons.tumblr.com/)\--❤
> 
> ❤--[My Book](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00QZ5AI1K)\--❤--[Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/SableWolfe)\--❤--[Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/A2832IP7)\--❤
> 
> ❤--Skype: shannaleia--❤
> 
> ❤ Thanks for reading! If you enjoy the story or this chapter in particular, please feel free to leave a review with your thoughts! ❤  
>  ❤ I love reading comments and reply to all of them. ❤


	12. Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a beach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Know what ain't a beach? [This place right here where magic happens ](https://talks-to-skeletons.tumblr.com/)and skeletons go to the bone zone with thirsty fans sometimes. But mostly it's just shenanigans, 24/7.  
> Oh yeah, this thing is totally unedited by anyone but my lazy ass so don't yell at my poor editor if you got a problem with it mkay? Awesome. :D

Sans... might be losing his mind.

A little bit. Not completely, just... oh, _who is he really kidding?_

_She knows!_

_She knows she knows, she knows, she's heard it and now—_

He slams his palm against the tiled bathroom wall, trying to use the pain to silence his thoughts for even a second, but it's just no good.

She might not know exactly what it means, but _somehow,_ Asgore _curse_ the entire situation, she can hear the harmony. Or, at least, her part of it. She'll have to be told the truth about everything.

And then...

And then, she'll flee from all of them, like the tainted freaks they are.

* * * * *

She's been waiting for this moment.

Ever since Sans told her about the human who'd run smack into Paps, she'd expected this time to come. And at last, it's arrived.

Finally, _it's time to meet you_.

She knocks on the downstairs bathroom's door. "Chara! Get your skank ass out here, it's time to go!"

A slightly rougher than her own voice responds, "Fuck you!" Frisk hears a snicker, then, much more fondly, "I'll be out in a minute, take a chill pill babe."

Frisk nods at the closed door. "'Kay. I'mma get Azzy and dad. Meetcha at the front door."

She hears a bubble gum bubble pop. "'Kay."

Snorting, she shakes her head and tromps up the stairs, taking a left into the hall and knocking on the first door on the right. "Azzybae you ready? I'm gonna get dad and head to the door; mom's already waiting."

A medium—though still rumbling like a mountain—male voice responds, "Be out in a minute, Friskybae. You wearin' pink or blue today? I couldn't tell..."

Frisk chuckles. "Blue, Chara's got the pink skirt today..." She pauses, eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Az, you're not doin' matchy-matchy again, are you?"

The hesitation lasts just a touch too long to ignore. "...Nnno?"

She snorts a laugh and lets her palm smack to her brow as she chuckles. " _Stars,_ Azzy, just wear whatever you want to wear."

The door opens wide, revealing Azriel in a pink _and_ blue Hawaiian flower patterned shirt over the _orangest_ jeans she's ever seen. He's got a plaintive look on his face, already giving her the puppy dog eyes he's famous for. "But Friiiisk, I wanna match you and Chara!"

Her jaw drops at his clothing choices. "Oh my god, Az, you're worse than dad!" She pushes him back into his room, entering it herself without delay and heading right to the closet, immediately grabbing and flinging various clothing items at him. " _Here,_ if you insist on matching us, at least wear something that doesn't make everyone's eyes bleed." She finally stops her whirlwind through his walk-in closet and returns to him, just as he's carefully draping what she'd thrown at him over his arm, looking sad and dejected. She deflates and goes to him, her hands reaching out to land on his shoulders and rub them comfortingly. "I love you, but your fashion sense is terrible."

He sighs sorrowfully, leaning forward and bumping his brow against hers gently. "I know." He sounds absolutely miserable about it, even as he says it.

She smirks and lifts one hand up to his fuzzy cheek, urging him to look up at her. "You want me to bring you along on the next shopping trip I take with Metts? You know he could fix ya right up." She glances down at his pants a bit ruefully. "Where did you even _get_ neon orange jeans, babe? That's... _frightening_." She finally can't hold it any longer and grins, chuckling at him and planting a kiss on the peach fuzz above his nose. "C'mon," she pats his cheek, "get dressed. I gotta get dad and make sure Charabae's outta the bathroom so we can _leave._ We're gonna be late already and I don't wanna miss this."

He nuzzles her in answer and she nuzzles him back, then slips past him and leaves him to dress, heading down the hall and knocking on her parent's room. "Dad, you in here still? Chara an' Azzy are takin' forever, but mom 'n' I are ready and waitin'. We're gonna be late."

She hears the heavy footfalls of her dad coming for the door and cranes her neck in preparation to look up at him just before the door swings wide. Her dad, Asgore, King of all Monsters, is actually dressed pretty decently for once, in black slacks, a maroon dress shirt that's just slightly on the side of too small for the belly that's been slowly expanding over the years, and a nice pinstripe tie that actually _isn't_ a clip-on. He clears his throat midway through her appraisal. "Your mom picked the outfit," he explains, a bit awkwardly.

She smiles brightly up at him anyway. "It actually looks great, dad. Sharp, even. She did well. You about ready?"

He nods, his periwinkle blush shining brilliantly through the fur of his cheeks. "Just need my shoes and the blazer. Is Tori at the door already?"

"Yup," she answers, popping the 'p', "been waitin' for like, ten minutes. I already warned Chara and Az, so they should be down soon. Seeya down there in a minute."

He smiles softly. "Alright pumpkin."

She smirks at him and closes the door, heading back up the hallway as the floor boards beneath the carpet squeak and pop at her in annoyance for her daring to step on them. She practically flies down the stairs and once again pounds on the bathroom door, giving Chara her five-minute warning.

" _OKAY, Jesus Christ chill!"_ comes the response, followed by a series of curses and grouching about giving her a heart attack.

Frisk snickers and calls through the door, "Love ya, Charabae," just to antagonize her.

"Fuck off, ya tart," comes the response, with, "Love ya too," tacked on belatedly.

Grinning, Frisk makes her way out into the living room and heads for the foyer, where her mom is seated in a rocking chair with a book, waiting. "Should all be out in a minute." She sighs and leans against the wall, beaming a soft smile at her mother, the Queen of all Monsters. "You did well with dad's outfit. Had to save Az from himself and I'll never speak for Chara's taste, but I think we'll only be about eighteen minutes late, _this_ time." She snorts and rolls her eyes.

Toriel chuckles, shaking her head and sighing. "I'll have you know, there was a time when I was never late, no matter where I went. But, well. That was before I met your father. I have not been on time, ever since; but I am also never lonely now, which is a more than fair trade, I think." She smiles at Frisk, closing her book and holding her hand out.

She takes her mother's massive paw in her hands and squeezes it gently as Toriel continues, "I would much rather have you all in my life than be on time, any day."

Frisk smiles and launches herself forward, flinging her arms around Toriel's neck. "Love you, mom," she murmurs into her mom's fur, practically melting when Tori's arms enfold her warmly.

"I love you too, my dear child, my little star. You are all going to do great things with your lives; I can feel it in my horns." The amusement is clear in her mom's voice as she goes on, "And as you well know, my horns are never wrong."

Frisk snorts a laugh and shakes her head, effectively nuzzling further into Tori's shoulder. "Except about dad."

Toriel nods her acquiescence. "I suppose that's true. He has been a wonderful father for you three, I won't deny it."

Frisk hums her confirmation and gently releases her mother, sliding out of her lap and standing just in time for Chara to come strolling into the room. Frisk smiles at her, the gesture returned with a devious smirk. The pink skirt she wears is perfectly offset by a thin black shirt and leggings of the same color, her hair styled in two low, offset buns. Her makeup is impeccable, as always, thanks to Metts teaching them both over the years. Even the shock of her red eyes is lessened by her effective skills.

Chara scoffs as she sees the room otherwise empty of occupants, crossing her arms and leaning against the divider wall. "They still aren't down? The hell? We're gonna be _stupid_ late."

"Chara, language," Tori chides, then shakes her head, eyes turned toward the ceiling, "but you are correct; perhaps I should go get them myself."

"No need, dear one, we are here." Frisk turns to see her dad and Asriel turning the corner into the foyer and her relief is profound when she sees Az is dressed in far better matching clothing than his previous catastrophe.

Toriel nods and stands, reaching the door in a pair of steps and opening it wide for everyone. "Then let us depart. We're already well past the point of fashionable lateness as it is." She ushers them through quickly.

Sans is sitting outside on the steps, waiting, looking up at the stars that have just begun to come out for the night. He turns when he hears the scraping of claws against the decking of the porch, standing to accept the hug Frisk gives him before he can even open his arms. "heh. hey, kiddo." He nods over her shoulder at the rest of them as he returns her embrace. "you guys ready?"

"You goat-a be kitten me, Sanster. Of horse we're ready," Frisk cuts in before Tori can, though both they and Sans chuckle the moment it's out there.

He backs up, smiling as he mostly releases her, though he keeps hold of her hand. "heh. well, let's not stand here howlin' at the moon. have a feelin' we'll be barkin' up the wrong tree if we don't make like a cat and scram." He gestures to the rest of them, expression turning serious. "you know the drill. everyone grab a partner and don't let go 'til we're all through."

"Sans," Asriel reaches out and sets a large, if gentle, paw on Sans' shoulder, "are you alright?"

Sans' smile tightens as he shrugs the shoulder not weighed down by the Prince's paw. "guess we'll see." He scratches at his cervical vertebrae with his free hand. "dad said she's taken root, probly in all of us, now. i dunno. we'll see after tonight, i guess."

Asgore reaches over, grasping Sans' other shoulder carefully in his massive paw. "Don't give up hope, Sans. You've lauded how reasonable she's been about it all. Surely she'll remain true to her own actions thus far. Even humans aren't usually fickle enough for that."

Sans gives a sardonic snort at that. "usually, sure. we'll see." He jerks his skull toward the front yard. "c'mon, you're already late."

Asgore grimaces and retreats his hand, his son following suit. Soon, the Dreemurr family have joined hands and are following a skeleton through a hole in reality. Everyone remains firmly in contact until he closes the gash behind them and turns to lead the way inside.

Grillby's is much quieter than usual, as Grillby'd shut down the bar to the public when he'd been told the Royal Family was visiting tonight. When they arrive, they're greeted by Gaster, Papyrus, Grillby, Undyne, Alphys, and you, who is shyly waving at them all.

Greetings and introductions are quickly made before everyone settles into a rather traditional monster meal, gathered around several tables that have been pushed together. Before long, the conversation is passing fairly freely.

"So newbie," Chara addresses you, "I heard you were some big-time novelist or somethin'. What kinda novels ya write?"

Everyone looks to you in time to see your cheeks flush at the attention. "Uh, well, it's... usually fantasy, maybe some sci-fi. ...Romance." You shrug, even amidst the crowing and questions over your last admission; you shove a few fries in your gob, likely so you don't have to actually answer anything. _Hmm._

Eventually, after you give the more curious people your pen name, they leave you mostly alone, aside from some occasional friendly teasing jabs. Frisk and Chara watch you curiously as you interact with the others; Asriel paying nearly as much attention as his mates, even while being distracted by dad for various subjects. By the time everyone's cleaned their plates, Frisk is sure of where things stand.

So, she does so.

Rising to her full height, she glances at her mates with a conspiratorial smile, then turns to you. "____, I believe you have questions? We have answers." She looks to Grillby. "May we use your office, Sir Immix?"

Grillby bows his head respectfully. "Of course, Ambassador." He stands and gestures demurely. "Right this way, if you will."

She nods to him. "Thank you." Glancing at you, she smiles. "Come on, let's answer some of your concerns already, yeah?"

You glance to Sans and Gaster—smart one, looking to them first—then Grillby, all of whom nod in quick reassurance before you look to Frisk, giving your own nod and rising to follow.

* * * * *

Meeting the Royal Family has been... an experience; you'll certainly grant it that much. The monsters you'd mostly expected, having seen Asgore and Toriel before on TV, but Frisk is much older now, as is Asriel, whom the last time you saw him was as a child monster when _you_ were a kid. And you'd never seen Chara before, though those _red, red_ eyes of hers might have something to do with it. They're certainly startling in their intensity; you get the feeling she was probably a little hellion growing up.

You're honestly glad it's finally come to this, despite the oddness of it all coming from near-strangers. Besides, despite everything you feel... well, _comfortable_ with them, and isn't that just a ball of weirdness all on its own? Probably some kind of mystical mayhem you're not aware of, being the magical dud of a human you are.

After you've all funneled into the office, Chara immediately takes the seat behind the desk; Frisk and Asriel standing at her sides while you take the guest chair. Grillby lingers for a moment at the door, but sighs softly and closes it behind him seconds later. You frown at his unusual hesitation, but shrug and turn your attention to the trio across the desk from you.

Chara looks up over at the Prince of Monsters. "Was that really _all three_ of 'em?" At his nodding sigh, she looks back to you. "Well shit, girly, ain't you just a bundle 'a' love?"

You look between the three of them imploringly. "What? What is it you all know?"

Chara tosses an utterly mournful puppy dog look up at Frisk. "Can I tell'er? Can I tell'er? Pleeeeeeeease?" She clasps her hands before her, begging now.

Frisk gives her a disapproving glare, rolls her eyes and nods. "Fine, but you've got to do the explaining."

Chara rolls her own eyes, then turns to you, bracing her elbows on the desk and folding her resting hands, appearing quite business-like, aside from the completely unprofessional clothing. "So, ____. You want answers?" At your short nod, she continues, "Good, 'cause I got the only answers that really matter for you. One, y'know the boneheads out there, Sans, Gaster? Oh and the fire butt too, Grillby? You rock their worlds. No, really. Your soul's literally rockin' theirs with a sweet, sweet lullaby that's singin' the truth to 'em that you ain't quite heard yet: you're their soulmate. Oh, and two, the kicker of this whole shitshow?"

She leans in, and you do as well, though there's no actual need to, you're just so caught up in the moment and your own shock that you can't really think rationally.

"____, you're a mage."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **So, some clarification before you comment:  
>  **
> 
> Everyone in my story is an adult unless specifically stated otherwise. Any characters shown in relationships are consenting adults and are fully mature enough to handle their shit. Also none of the Dreemurr (again, NOW ADULT) 'children' are in any way blood related, so literally any bitching about anything related to age or supposed 'incest' will be tossed into the Void and erased forever, because it just doesn't apply here, period. That is all.
> 
> * * *
> 
> ❤--[Talks-To-Skeletons (Voidshatter Ask Blog)](https://talks-to-skeletons.tumblr.com/)\--❤
> 
> ❤--[My Book](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00QZ5AI1K)\--❤--[Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/SableWolfe)\--❤--[Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/A2832IP7)\--❤
> 
> ❤--Skype: shannaleia--❤
> 
> ❤ Thanks for reading! If you enjoy the story or this chapter in particular, please feel free to leave a review with your thoughts! ❤  
>  ❤ I love reading comments and reply to all of them. ❤


	13. Resonance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Resonating happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Know what doesn't resonate? Okay, that's a lie, but still, know what? You should go [here](https://talks-to-skeletons.tumblr.com/).

You're staring at them, wide-eyed, unable to fully process the words they've said to you.

Really, they weren't that many words, so you're not quite sure why it's so difficult.

Sans.

Gaster.

Grillby.

_Soulmates._

You.

_**Mage.** _

Simple words, really. Not even hard to spell. You get the feeling though—and something, somewhere in the back of your mind is confirming it—that it's more the _meaning_ of those few little words and names than it is the words themselves. More specifically, what they mean to your world, which has just been abruptly uprooted and turned on it's head, then drop-kicked and sent flying.

It isn't until you hear a faint popping sound that you register a very, very large paw snapping its fingers in front of your face. You startle back, gasping in a sharp breath and pressing yourself to the back of the chair, as if that would somehow save you from that large paw-like hand. Finally, you breathe what feels like the first breath of a drowning woman, and your tunnel vision slowly begins to expand.

Asriel. It's Asriel. Prince of all Monsters... looking down at you in honest, earnest concern, his other hand attached to your shoulder and gently shaking, barely a rocking motion at all. "____? Are you... alright? Are you with us?"

"Give her a minute, Az. She's just had a bomb dropped on her, she needs some time to recover." Frisk, the Monster's Human Ambassador.

"Step back a bit, Azzybae. Give our new buddy some space." Chara. You don't really know who she is, other than that. But she oddly enough seems to be on your side, so you're not really complaining.

You look around, taking inventory of things. You're in a place you don't really... oh. Grillby's office. Right.

Grillby, your blue flame elemental Monster soulmate. That Grillby. Right.

You stand abruptly—nearly toppling the chair behind you—which turns out to be a really bad idea, as you suddenly feel rather dizzy. You smack your hands down on the desk to steady yourself, shaking your head sharply in an effort to clear it. You zone in on Chara, still sitting placidly in front of you. "You... how... how long?"

You close your eyes while you try to regain your sense of which direction is up, so you don't catch the look the other three in the room exchange. It's Chara that speaks first. "Uh, how long you been their soulmates, how long ya been a mage, or how long ya got until refusing them has actual consequences? Gotta be a li'l more specific there, baby mage."

"Chara!" Frisk reprimands her.

"What?" Chara indignantly defends, "You said I had t'splain it, yeah? I'm doin' it. Don't bitch about my methods now, after y'already agreed t'my terms."

Frisk sighs heavily. "At least have some tact. You can see she's about ready to bolt as it is."

Chara groans. " _Fine_ , fine." You open your eyes just in time to see her wave Frisk off and roll her eyes in annoyance before she looks to you. "To answer the first two: forever. Bein' soulmates ain't somethin' that just _happens,_ it's somethin' you're all born with. So, even f'as long as ancient-ass Grillby's been alive, he's been your soulmate, waitin' in the wings f'ya to be born. Same with Gaster 'n' Sans. Same with you in reverse."

She fiddles with a pen on the desk. "An' the mage thing... well, any human tha's a soulmate with a Monster, 'specially a big, bad Boss Monster, is a mage. An' you? You fuckin' lucked out, buddy. Y'got yaself _three_ Boss Monster soulmates, one 'a' which is the single most powerful monster in existence right now."

You frown at that. "Wh-who?"

"Grillby," the Monster to your left provides. "There's a reason he runs our shelters, wherever we gather in great numbers. He is our strongest protection against those who would cause us harm. Others come close, but he is... unmatched."

Blinking in confused surprise, you inquire, "Grillby's is a shelter?"

Asriel nods. "Yes. It has a direct tunnel connection to the Underground, which can be magically blocked. Not our favorite idea for a plan of protection, mind; but it is effective, considering all the other ways into the mountain were sealed off years ago. Any humans attempting to get to us would have to risk drilling into the mountainside within a government restricted area." He shrugs, a wry smirk gracing his muzzle. "Good luck."

You slowly nod as you process all of this. "Okay. Right. So..." you look at Chara, "consequences?"

She purses her lips, looking serious for once. Her cheek twitches. "Well, ____, I'm gonna put it to ya simply. If ya wait for a long while to refuse the soulbond of a Monster who's been harmonizing with ya... long enough that their soul's taken root and started to really grow in your soul, strong enough that you've long since noticed somethin's weird and that you're hearin' some freaky chime comin' from ya chest... well, if ya wait a good while after that, t'the point of _stupidity,_ really, _then_ reject 'em... it can have really fuckin' bad consequences."

One corner of her mouth tightens. "So, imagine if say, one day, some asshole decided t'rip out one of your heart chambers. You'd die pretty fuckin' quick, yeah?"

You nod your agreement.

She leans forward, and you _swear_ those red eyes of hers are actually _glowing._ "Same shit can happen if ya ain't careful when ya rip a piece of a Monster's soul out."

You sit—it's more that you fall because your legs give out, but you'll call it sitting—back down. All three relax somewhat, but the atmosphere in the room is still tense. You look at each one of them in turn, landing on Chara at the end. "S-so... am I... have they already... um." You swallow, sweat starting to bead on your hairline. "Taken root?"

Chara looks up to Asriel, who steps up to you and looks down at you seriously. "____, do I have your permission to bring forth your soul, in the presence of those gathered, for the express purpose of examination to determine its current health and bond level to any potential soulmates?"

Chara snorts. "So fuckin' formal, Azzy."

Asriel and Frisk both shoot disapproving glares her way. She raises her hands in surrender and sits back in the chair, resting her hands in her lap. Asriel looks back to you.

You consider your options. Much as you're not... entirely comfortable being so vulnerable in a room full of near-strangers, you know these people are well-trusted by the Monster community and the world at large. At least, the majority of it; pockets of Monster haters excluded.

"I can tell you," Asriel interrupts your hesitant moment, "that for you to all be resonating as strongly as you are, they have at least taken root in your soul, and you in theirs. Whether it has passed the point of damaging any of your souls if you turn back at this point is what we mean to determine here."

You frown at him. "It could damage my soul too?"

Chara snorts. "What, ya think you could have part of your soul ripped out and not get hurt by it? Are ya really that dim?"

"Chara!" Frisk barks at her in reprimand. You get the sense she does that a lot.

Chara splays her hands out on either side in an indignant shrug. "What? If she can't figure that out on her own then she really _is_ dim."

Frisk slumps, a hand lifting to support her brow. "Why do we ever bring you on diplomatic ventures?"

Chara grins up at her cheekily. "Because ya love my ass and it's motivation for your big speeches."

Frisk groans, rising from her shame with a blush to look at you apologetically. "I'm sorry for my mate's behavior, she's utterly impossible." She glares at Chara. "Please, ignore her rudeness." She looks back to you with a softer, sympathetic expression. "She is not wrong, however. If you wait too long, it can have extremely damaging consequences, both to you and your soulmates. Examining your soul now will give us all an idea of how long you have before you must either reject or accept your potential soulmates and their bond."

Your hands grip the arms of the chair tightly. It's now or never. You nod and look up at Asriel. "A-alright. Yes. I consent."

He dips his head, almost in a slight bow, then lifts his hand, paw pads up.

Frisk speaks up, softly, "You may want to lift your shirt out of the way of your soul's path, so it isn't marked. That's... a vulnerability your soulmates won't appreciate us allowing to happen."

You frown, but the memory of that documentary you watched, seeing the soul stains on the clothing of the volunteers... at the thought, you realize she's probably right, though you're not sure what she means by... "Wh-what vulnerability could that be? I mean, o-other than it being obvious I've had my... my soul out, recently."

Frisk smiles comfortingly. "When you've had your soul out, you're more vulnerable to attacks of all sorts until the stain goes away. That's... one part of the purpose of the stain, is to mark you as having recently been in an encounter, so if you've killed someone, you're easier to catch. One of many purposes, that is. It'll all be explained as time goes on, but just trust me when I say you don't want to make it obvious."

Your lip curls for a moment of discomfort as the weight of that indication settles on you. "Oh. O-okay." You lift the center of your shirt up, just past the end of your sternum, looking to her for confirmation. "Is this good?"

She nods reassuringly, then looks to Asriel, a suggestion you follow, peering up at the tall Monster with apprehension.

You feel the tell-tale tugging in your chest that you've heard and read about happening in these situations, and it feels like there's a large amount of resistance—like someone's yanking an entire forest, roots and all, out of that one spot within your chest—but he crooks his finger once and it all releases.

Suddenly, before you can even blink, there's a brilliantly glowing lavender heart in front of you, and both it and the sound it's producing is taking up absolutely every ounce of your concentration. That heart rises, up, up, up, until something—or rather, some _one_ —breaches into the realm of your attention span. Oh. Right. Asriel again. You're _still_ in Grillby's office and there's _still_ three strangers around you. Slowly, you look around at them, taking them into account before you glue your focus back on that radiant soul which you know is yours, would know is yours even if you couldn't feel it like a newly discovered limb that's always existed, you just didn't know it until now.

"____." You barely hear the voice over the chime coming from your soul. Asriel looks down at you with patience in his eyes and he suddenly feels _old, so, so old_ , but he doesn't look it, and you wonder where that feeling came from.

You blink a few times and clear your thoughts as best you can, then nod. "Yeah?"

He takes a deep breath, then brings his cupped palm down to your level, your soul following along like a dog on a leash, bringing that resonating song closer. "Take a look."

You follow his instructions, leaning in to peer at your—Sans was right, it really is—beautiful soul with a hungered curiosity.

Something odd catches your attention almost immediately.

There's three absolutely tiny, upside-down hearts, radiating their own light and floating gently within the center of your soul. As you aim your concentration at them, you realize the song your soul is singing has actually been mixing with the smaller, softer songs of each little heart, creating the overall melody that you've been hearing for weeks, but couldn't properly pinpoint until now.

Then, something else catches your eye: the color of the little hearts.

One is sky blue, like Grillby's flames.

Another's violet, like the swirls of shadow that accompany Gaster's magic.

The final one is dark cyan, the color of Sans' eyes and blush.

...These are the colors of your soulmate's souls.

Well... shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❤--[Talks-To-Skeletons (Voidshatter Ask Blog)](https://talks-to-skeletons.tumblr.com/)\--❤
> 
> ❤--[My Book](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00QZ5AI1K)\--❤--[Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/SableWolfe)\--❤--[Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/A2832IP7)\--❤
> 
> ❤--Skype: shannaleia--❤
> 
> ❤ Thanks for reading! If you enjoy the story or this chapter in particular, please feel free to leave a review with your thoughts! ❤  
>  ❤ I love reading comments and reply to all of them. ❤


	14. It's a Date!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A date it is and a date it shall be. Many, many dates. Nom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look, I'm terrible about updating no matter what I write.  
> Sorry. -_-  
> Know what isn't terrible? [This.](https://talks-to-skeletons.tumblr.com/)

It takes some time, but you finally shake yourself out of the stupor that reality hitting you like a ten-ton load of bricks caused you.

Now to actually deal with that reality.

You look around at the three keeping you company for your mild breakdown, taking a breath and shaking your head. You glance over at your soul, unsure what to think or feel about the three little burning hearts in the middle of it, other than... "I've only known them for a month. I don't get how..." you gesture to your soul, craning your neck to look Asriel in the eyes, _"this_ could happen in that short a time! How?"

Asriel sets his giant paw on your shoulder comfortingly and squats down finally, making himself almost even with your eye level. "____, it takes around two weeks for a soulmate's soul to root in yours, after meeting you. The resonating song can first be heard the moment that meeting happens, by anyone with a spark of awakened magic."

He holds his other paw up. "Do not look upon your soulmates or your other Monster friends too harshly, it's... common practice not to say anything about it until it becomes necessary. As previously stated, there are risks with all of this and they likely wanted to give you some time to get to know your soulmates before revealing their status to you, to ease you into it. I promise you, their keeping it from you wasn't meant maliciously, in any way."

You snort a scoff, slumping back in the chair and staring over at your soul in disbelief. It's all true. Even if you couldn't already _feel_ it as an absolute truth, you can _see_ the evidence of it, hanging there, utterly undeniable, right before you. "So... now what?"

There seems to be a universal sigh of relief issued in the room, all three Dreemurrs slumping a bit with your question. Chara speaks up. "Now, ya make a choice, baby mageling. Stay ya normal, borin' fuckin' self, reject ya soulmates, break their hearts an' dash a few hopes an' return t'ya old life, b'fore ya knew any Monsters... or consider the alternative. Open ya eyes an' look to the future, see that it's bright 'n' full'a stars all waitin' jus' for ya, t'come along 'n' pluck 'em outta the sky to keep as yours." She shrugs. "It's ya choice, magey."

* * * * *

Half an hour later, you exit... your soulmate's office, shuffling off to the side to allow the Dreemurr trio behind you out and slowly lifting your gaze to the trio of your soul's mates waiting for you.

Grillby is wringing out a cloth in the sink behind the bar, his eyes just now snapping up to meet yours.

Gaster has just stood from his stool after catching sight of you, a look of sympathetic concern on his face.

Sans is sitting, facing the bar, elbows on its padded rim, his head in his hands.

Chara walks over to him and slaps him on the shoulder. "Hey! Ya lil mage's out. Should go say hi 'n' shit."

He startles and turns in the stool so fast he nearly falls off it. "____? are... you alright?"

Grillby comes out from behind the bar and stands next to Gaster, both of them looking very much like they want to question and comfort you all at once.

Quiet, somewhat awkward but still friendly goodbyes are said to the Dreemurrs. They've done their part and saw everything through smoothly as could be. Toriel gives you a hug and tells you to come by when you're ready to start learning your magic. Asgore shakes your hand and wishes you well, as does Asriel. Frisk gives you a supportive hug, murmuring encouragement before she parts from you. Chara shakes your hand and gives you a friendly punch to the arm that feels like she used a bit too much knuckle.

Suddenly, it's just you and your three... mates? Is that what they are now? Is this the thing you've suddenly gained? Is this really the decision you're making?

You quietly head behind the bar and get yourself a glass of water as Grillby locks up behind the Dreemurrs and sets up a table with four chairs in the middle of the room. He gestures to it invitingly and he and the other two sit, then look to you. You down, then refill the glass and bring it with you, sinking into your chair and taking another sip before setting it on the table before you. When you look at them, all eyes are on you.

Of course they are.

Somehow, all of this hinges on you. Somehow, you lucked out on this one in a million opportunity and being the bright star you are, you're not one to back down from an adventure, so you'd decided to toss caution to the wind and embrace a new reality.

So, you look up at your mates, look each one in the eye, and despite having a small breakdown on the inside, you manage to get the words out...

"I'd like to get to know you all better, since... well, I guess since we're basically getting married if we choose each other, if I'm understanding all this right. Feel it's only right if I actually know you better before doing this. So, in the pursuit of that goal, I'm gonna start spending two days per week with each of you, no more, no less. The seventh day is for me and me alone, nobody bugs me at all on it unless I decide otherwise. We'll use the days to get to know each other, go on dates, hang out, talk, etcetera. When it's time, before... before anything irreversible happens, we'll figure out our decisions based on what we feel at that time."

You look around at them. "Does that seem fair to you?"

Nods and quiet, but eager agreements chorus from your potential mates. You brace yourself lightly and nod, taking another sip of your water and swallowing down the cooling, steadying fluid. "Alright, then let's make a schedule. Let's make it happen."

...

**Dating Start!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❤--[Talks-To-Skeletons (Voidshatter Ask Blog)](https://talks-to-skeletons.tumblr.com/)\--❤
> 
> ❤--[My Book](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00QZ5AI1K)\--❤--[Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/SableWolfe)\--❤--[Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/A2832IP7)\--❤
> 
> ❤--Skype: shannaleia--❤
> 
> ❤ Thanks for reading! If you enjoy the story or this chapter in particular, please feel free to leave a review with your thoughts! ❤  
>  ❤ I love reading comments and reply to all of them. ❤


	15. The Sins of The Father's Son

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I'm sorry, guys. I'm horrible at updating.  
>  I literally lost inspiration for all writing for a good while there and I'm not sure if it's back, but it's easier right now, so maybe? I hope? Fingers crossed!  
> I'll be honest, my mental health is not the greatest and neither is my life. So I'm sorry for the extremely slow updates, but I promise I am very much still interested in creating content for this.  
> The very easiest way to reach me and the characters in this story is to come see us on the [Voidshatter ask blog!](https://talks-to-skeletons.tumblr.com/)  
> Very special thanks to [NihilismPastry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NihilismPastry/pseuds/NihilismPastry) for helping me slam past some of the writer's block for this chapter!

Your dates the first week leave you feeling... well, frazzled, if you're honest.

You're quite grateful by the end of it that you've got a day all to yourself. Even Undyne and Alphys are respecting your solitary day off, and you couldn't be more thankful to them both. You're not sure if you could've handled their over-enthused ~~shipping~~ questions and demands for details ~~for fan fiction~~ to satisfy their voracious appetites. Much as you appreciate how supportive they are, you just... you just...

_You can't handle this._

But _no_ , you tell yourself, _I can, I just have to delay my recharging for a couple weeks. It's okay. It'll work itself out in the end. Right? It... will work itself out, right?_

You sigh and stare at the ceiling above your bed for a bit longer, as you have been for the past hour, trying to balance out the mess in your head.

...It's not really helping, much.

With a huff, you roll out of bed and head out into the living room, wincing against the light of the sun that stabs into your retina like a giant syringe full of 'fuck you'. You groan and head to the kitchen, grabbing yourself some breakfast. As you cook your eggs and bacon, you're reminded of the breakfast Grillby cooked for you, with his own fire.

He'd made it simple; eggs over easy with toast and breakfast ham, but it tasted... well, _amazing_. "Why does magic-made food always taste so _amazing?_ Is it just the magic, or do you use special spices or ingredients or... something?"

He smiles and prods at his egg's yolk with the toast, sopping some into it. "It is the magic. While I do use appropriate spices, if I cooked it as humans do, it would taste exactly the same, without the magic. You can do it too, if you like."

And so, he'd taught you how to infuse magic into food. It really wasn't that difficult, honestly. You're doing it now, as you scramble today's eggs. You know it won't taste quite as good, your magic isn't strong yet, after all. But, just from your practice this week, it has helped it not taste like ash in comparison, at least.

Speaking of magic…

Your magic was an... interesting thing. You'd read Harry Potter, Mistborn, and every other book with a magic system since you were a kid. You'd seen Monsters use magic before, so you knew it wasn't exactly the same as the books, but…

You were surprised by how underwhelming the first stab at it had been. Instead of learning to conjure fire, make water move, literally anything useful, it had been nothing but breathing exercises. Well, breathing exercises and kind of transferring magic from point A to point B. It wasn't exactly like that, but it was the best way to describe it.

Oh well, at least you were learning.

After breakfast, you left the plate and pan in the sink to tackle later, and picked up your phone. The background was a picture of…

_Fire._

You'd… just, _somehow,_ literally caught his coat on fire. It wasn't like you were _trying_ to be destructive, you hadn't even had any negative intent… had you? Ugh, what a chore it was, sometimes, to figure all this out.

The picture Sans had captured and slapped onto your phone's background was of his father's coattails, blazing with lavender fire. Gaster had clapped proudly, then doused his entire ass in water.

Apparently his control over water wasn't his strong suit.

You try to sit down and write for a bit, but things just… don't seem to flow.

_You're distracted._

Not that anyone who knew about your circumstances could blame you, especially with you being right in the middle of it all…

But the only ones who know are the monsters you surround yourself with.

Trying to keep it all together by will alone only works so well, for so long. You hope you can finish out the next week without having a mental breakdown.

* * * * *

"Y'know, I'm actually kinda impressed with ____. I mean, how would _you_ feel if three monsters suddenly pinged as your soulmates _at once_? She's gotta be freakin' out on the inside or somethin'. Probably a strong soul to keep it all under control, gonna make a strong mage, too," Undyne observes, as she tosses a small boulder Papyrus' way.

He catches it and shakes his head. "Yes, I'm sure she's strong; she's a human with three extremely powerful Boss Monsters as soulmates, after all. What's your point?"

She rolls her eye. "My _point,_ ya dork, is she was strong _before_ them. _Mentally_. That's a hell of a lot more important than a powerful soul an' you know it."

He rolls his eyelights and tosses the stone back at her. "Yes, wonderful, she's mentally stable. Good for her eventual mates, I suppose."

She huffs a small laugh and grunts as she catches the fat rock. "Never said she was _stable_ , just strong."

"You guys gonna throw or yammer?! Get movin'!" gripes the rotund rock they've been tossing back and forth for exercise.

They both grimace and apologize, getting a move on. Better to think about it than talk, anyway.

* * * * *

He's panicked and worried and stressing _constantly_.

Well, when he's not passed out next to her, or trying to keep her entertained with puns that get worse by the day and so many date activities his skull's spinning from them all. His pops keeps trying to get him to relax, but he can't! He just... he _can't_.

She met him _first_. He's the one the most at risk, out of all of them.

Even Gaste... _pops_.

* * * * *

"Darlings, do you _really_ think she's worth all this fuss? I understand all too well what we all do to woo our soulmates, but stars on high, the utter _frenzy_ they're all in over ____ is ridiculous!" Mettaton exclaims, from his position lounging gloriously on Asriel's bed, while the girls flutter about the prince, pulling together a proper wardrobe for him.

Chara snorts, precluding the soft response Asriel was about to give and the likely reasonable one Frisk nearly made out with, "I've never seen any of 'em this fuckin' obsessed over somethin'. Even doc's got himself all twisted 'round her finger like she's the answer t'life n' shit. Y'know he's the most reasonable of those three twerps."

Mettaton sighs mournfully and nods. "Too true, sweetling. I do hope she makes her decisions soon; poor Sans is nearly beside himself with stress and exhaustion. I promise you he'll collapse soon if she keeps teasing him so. Papy's even getting concerned, and you know what he's like about his brother."

"Fucking dreadful." This, from Frisk, has everyone turning to her in surprise, then generally shrugging and nodding in agreement.

Asriel finally speaks up, "You're not wrong, Friskybae, but I wish you wouldn't use Charabae's language to illustrate it. Still, while I understand Sans apparently did something wrong, it was so, so long ago... is it truly so worth _still_ keeping such a grudge? What was it all even about? Nobody's really ever told me."

When the girls shrug and shake their heads, clearly clueless on this front, Mettaton scoffs. "Must I do _everything_ myself?" He rolls his eyes and sighs dramatically. "Oh, very well. The things I do for your adoration!" He humphs, flipping his hair. "Obviously, Sans did the most dreadful thing he could've done."

Asriel tilts his head. "What?"

Mettaton tuts and looks very put-out at having to spill the beans so easily. "Well, he killed his father, of _course_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	16. Sins of The Brother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY UPDATE THAT ISN'T MONTHS BEHIND!  
>  _-falls over-_  
>  ❤️ This chapter edited by my wonderful editor, illusionsfire76. ❤️

"He did _what?_ "

You're not sure what's shocked you more, the fact that this whole too-good-to-be-true situation really is too good to be true, or the fact that your potential soulmate killed... wait.

"But his dad's alive! Gaster! He's one of my soulmate thingies! People. Monsters. Guys." You cough awkwardly, glancing sheepishly at the trio you've dubbed "Fashion Disaster", despite Asriel's rather recently improved wardrobe.

It's Asriel who speaks up first, "Actually, I know this one. He... didn't _technically_ kill Gaster. He just... erased him from existence for twelve years."

You stare at him, stunned. "That's not better! Why? Why did he do that?"

Chara shrugs. "Who the fuck knows? Ask him. Only reason Paps ain't dusted 'im 'isself is Sans was th'only one who knew how t'get Gasty back outta th'void. An' once he was out, doc made it clear he didn' approve 'a' th'shit Paps'd put Sans through over th'years." Chara shakes her head and sighs. "I dunno what th'fuck to think 'bout any of it, baby mage."

You frown and look to Frisk. "So... it's because Gast loves Sans that... Sans is still alive? And wait, if he erased him, why'd he bring him back? And what's the void?"

Frisk holds her hands up to call a time-out. "Whoa, hang on there, one at a time. Yeah, pretty much. Papyrus would've killed him otherwise. He brought him back because Papyrus made him, I guess? I'm not sure. The story behind why he tossed him in the void and why he pulled him out is... unclear. I've asked a few people and nobody seems to completely know the full story." She seems bothered by that but shakes it off after a few seconds.

Asriel picks up answering your question, "The void... it's like... well, here, it's the home of the Spine of the Universe, which is the source of our magic. But there's another void that leads to other worlds, or rather, other _versions_ of our world, which isn't a source of magic. The one with the Spine is called the Core Void. That's... well, Gaster was working on powering the Underground off of it when Sans pushed him into the machine that connected the Spine to the Underground."

You sink down on the couch, trying to take all of this in. A copy of one of your books flips off of its home on your coffee table and you groan, trying to calm your magic down before it does anything worse.

Frisk sits next to you, a gentle hand on your shoulder. It's not long before you start to feel comforting intent flow into you, which you're not sure if you're grateful for... or not. You scrutinize your phone, rubbing the pads of your fingers against your thumb for a few seconds before snagging it and typing a new text to Sans.

 **____** : Hey, we need to talk. My place, soon as you can, please.

You get a message back soon enough.

 **Sans** : sure thing; gimme a couple hours, i'm in the middle of an important phase in our latest experiment.

You practice your magic as you wait. You’re glad for the presence of both the two mages and the monster at your side, who likely know the most about mage magic in this day and age, aside from those who lived before the barrier was formed. You learn a surprising amount as you wait about intent and controlling when it's actually used in conjunction with your magic, which is how it turns into a magic-fueled action in the first place. Hopefully, you won't be catching quite as many coattails on fire by sheer inexperience anymore.

When Sans finally arrives about four hours later, he's dressed rather smartly in a button-up shirt and slacks, with... are those _glasses?_

He shifts a little nervously when he catches sight of the Royals present, but he does his best to keep his smile. "heya frisk, azzy, chara, ____. should i be uh... worried?"

You narrow your eyes a bit. "I dunno—I suppose it all depends on your perspective. Do you consider patricide worrying? Maybe even, perhaps, something you should've told your potential mate about?"

Sans blanches, for all that a skeleton can blanch, his ring eyelights shrinking down so thin and growing so dim you have trouble picking them out from the pitch black of his sockets. "i-it ain't what it s-sounds like, ____, i swear. i didn't kill 'im, he just... i..." He deflates with a sigh, expression pained as he lets his face sink into his open palm, for once not covered with gloves.

"i was a babybones," he tries again, slowly lifting his head and looking anywhere but to the occupants of the room, "paps and i were in a kid pen in the lab 'cause pops d-didn't have anyone to watch us sometimes and... my m-magic... w-well, it surfaced early. i managed t'teleport outta the pen an' get to pops an'... i dunno what happened."

Sans plucks his glasses off and rubs his nasal bridge, sockets clamped shut. "all i know is, pops was gone after that. lab cameras only showed me gettin' outta the pen. the data after that was corrupted too badly thanks t'the event horizon to totally pin it on me, but... the implication was enough for p-paps, once he got old enough t'understand what it could mean... why we'd grown up relying on the kindness of other monsters... why i'd had t'raise 'im, by myself."

He sighs and cleans his glasses with a cloth he pulls from his shirt pocket, expression dull and so, so tired. "by that time, i'd long started on the path to learning how to bring pops back, but it was too late for any good opinion of me in my bro's mind t'ever exist. he told everyone who'd listen about his dad-killin' bro an' that was that."

He finally puts his glasses back on and looks over the group, shrugging once and scratching the back of his skull. "it took a long while, but i eventually managed t'bring pops back, in as close to the same condition as he left that i could. paps was happy to have 'im back, but... he never got past that resentment for losin' him in the first place. i can't blame 'im, really."

"I sure as fuck can," you retort, hands balled into fists on your lap, jaw tight. "Your brother is a fucking asshole, Sans, and he bullies and abuses you on a regular basis. While there's always more than one side to the story—and trust me, I'm gonna get 'em all—if what you've told us is the truth, then there's literally no reason for Paps to treat you like he does. Sure, maybe you were responsible for losin' Gast, to begin with, but Sans, _maybe you weren't._ Ever consider that? You, yourself, said the lab cameras didn't show shit. What kind of empirical evidence is that flimsy bullshit? None, that's what. If you wanna play the martyr, go right on ahead, but you didn't kill your dad."

"And I'm gonna prove it."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	17. A Matter of Memory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Editing? What's that?  
> This came from the ass end of my brain at 4 AM. If it sucks and makes no sense, that'd be why.  
> My brain told me to write when I was intending to go to bed, instead. Insanity, I tell you.

You've postponed the dates this week, at least until you can get to the bottom of this mess. It's a necessary sacrifice, considering the circumstances, but still, one you're loath to make.

Talking to the monsters you know has yielded... interesting results. They've even brought you a few others they know, here and there, but speaking to them was mostly pointless. The epicenter of this whole thing seems to be the little group you already knew.

You now know that everyone has been _told_ that Sans killed Gaster, or at least made him disappear, but nobody actually remembers... well... nobody remembers _Gaster._ Not his work, not him, nor anything surrounding him.

It seems this 'Core Void', as Gast calls it, the one with the Spine of the World in it... well, it's got more than its share of mysteries and contradictions. Supposedly, if one is tossed into it without any anchor, one is lost for all eternity.

And yet...

There is Gaster, standing there, large as life, all of his hands flailing about almost wildly, signing things and speaking animatedly in that charming British accent of his, completely owning the room by simply existing in it. And he spent twelve years in that impossible void made of magic.

As if merely thinking of him calls him to you, he turns to look directly at you, a warm smile gracing his features and an equally warm feeling blossoming somewhere in your chest.

There is a multitude of emotions in this single expression, which is a common theme you've noticed more and more, as you've spent time with your monster friends. But it's not only _expressing_ multiple feelings at once, but _feeling_ them, and incredibly strongly, that you've noted the most. They all feel so, so _much_ , all the time, that it's truly a wonder they ever get anything done.

But, back to your makeshift investigation.

Aside from everyone seeming to know that Sans killed or made Gaster disappear, nobody actually remembers how it happened, aside from Sans, himself. And even then, it's only a partial memory.

It's beyond apparent, by the accounts you've listened to, that the disparity between what people 'know' and what actually happened is... well, insurmountable, really.

But today, _today_ is the day you finally get to talk to Gaster himself about it all. He's been extremely busy at the lab this week, as has Sans; so much so that you've hardly had a moment to speak to either. But he's here today, and you hope against hope that he has the answers you seek.

* * * * *

"What? Oh, stars no, Sans didn't kill me. Who spoon-fed you that nonsense, my dear? Well, I _suppose_ he was the partial cause of my initial fall into the Core Void, but after all, it really was my fault, not his. I should've been paying attention to where I was going, honestly. I had so many files in my arms, a whole stack, and he'd just learnt to teleport, you see, so he was out of his playpen where he shouldn't be, and I, fool that I was, simply wasn't paying attention, and oh my, over the railing I went, after I'd gone and tripped over him as a barely crawling babybones." He sighs, true hands fluttering in distress. "It was all rather worrisome, especially when all my atoms split and spliced with my sons' during the event horizon. Horrifically painful, I assure you. I sincerely hope their end of the transfer was less painful."

He shrugs his hands and smiles. "Regardless, it's all worked out in the end, hasn't it? Sans managed to get me out, brilliant boy that he is, and all's well! Or, as well as it can be. People who knew me at the time still have great difficulty remembering that I actually do exist... which is the cause for that nasty little rumor you must've heard all this nonsense from. Nobody but me can recall exactly what happened, so they all still think it's what Papyrus told them, yes? Sad, really. I love my younger son, but he has turned... cruel. And I'm afraid his memory is no better than anyone else's. I'm not entirely certain why Sans remembers what he does. Perhaps he was simply that close to it all? It could be he inherited the Judgement abilities from me, or at least some aspect of them, during that event. I'm uncertain what happened, exactly. But he remembers, as does anyone I met _after_ my retrieval from the void. All very odd."

You blink at him for a few seconds, slightly stunned by this all. "So you're telling me you literally tripped over Sans as a baby and fell into the void?"

He nods, smiling. "Precisely! And feel free to remind them all, futile as that endeavor is; they'll all forget what you tell them in under an hour. I've tried. I've told Papyrus over and over again that Sans is not the culprit, but he's stuck in this belief thanks to the anomaly that I am. I hate watching Sans suffer under his brother's tyranny as he does, but what can be done? I will not harm my own son, no matter his corruption."

You frown at his choice of words. "Corruption? What do you mean?"

"Well, his _soul,_ of course! He's in possession of a corrupted aspect, which twists his Passion into Obsession and has turned him cruel. It's a truly pitiable situation, considering what twists him is literally not his fault, nor is it anyone's... well, but mine, really, for my lack of attention."

"Souls... aspects can be corrupted?"

He rests his hand on yours and gently pats it. "Well, of course, they can, my dear. Given a strong enough trauma, literally anything or anyone can become something they should not. It is simply how nature balances itself. When something is pushed hard enough, it is bound to change... to form an equal, but opposite reaction to the event."

You nod slowly. "Okay, I think I get that. But if Papster's soul is corrupted, can he be... healed? Or helped?"

He shakes his head. "I'm afraid, without removing the source of the problem, which we cannot do, as I've said, there's little to be done."

A great sigh issues from Gaster. "My younger son will forever be a cruel bastard to my eldest. He cannot be helped. He cannot be healed. And I will not kill my son. Could you, knowing what you know?"

You shake your head. "No, of course not. But Sans can't just live under this abuse forever; it's not right, in any sense."

He nods. "You're absolutely correct; I could not agree with you more. But how to solve it? Sans and I have tried for years to come up with a solution. Even Papyrus has tried helping, in the rare times when he retains the truth long enough to make the attempt. Nothing. I am... strong. The void gave me things... strength, knowledge, understanding I did not possess before I fell into it. Even I cannot suss out how to help my son. The only expert on memory tampering spells I've ever known is long dead and I've not met their like again since. I wish I had."

"You would take his memories of that, to make this right? Isn't that a violation of him, all on its own?"

"Isn't the fact that he abuses a brother he loves because of something wrong in his soul enough to justify such a thought?"

You frown, eyes drifting to the floor in disconcerted pensiveness. "I... I don't know."

"When you do know, my dear, do tell me. These are the questions that have plagued me since I re-entered this dimension and I would very much like to know the answers, myself."

You sigh, features still pinched in concern. "Will do, Gast."

"Will do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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